


Oh, it's amazing that you're here...

by Werepirechick



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: ....implied at least, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best tag, Canon Compliant, Commission fic, F/M, Feelings Realization, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Graduation, Growing Up, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, OTHER OTHER BEST TAG, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Threesome - F/M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Xenophilia, all my favorite tags are here today god bless, and also a lot of the three of them being drama queens and handling feelings poorly, near hit and miss kiss haha, other best tag, that's.... bc of donnie, the summary makes it sound like this takes longer than it really does, this is all sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-26 10:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14400492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werepirechick/pseuds/Werepirechick
Summary: Eventually, everything comes to its end. And with that end, a new journey begins.April and Casey are graduating soon, finally able to focus on their lives again without the war with the Shredder derailing things. Donnie also can finally focus on something besides the unending battles with their banished enemy; something he has mixed feelings about. As the graduation date draws closer, unresolved feelings between them all surface unexpectedly, and set off a chain of events that have been a long time coming...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Semianonymity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semianonymity/gifts).



> a commission written for the lovely and wonderful semianonyminity on tumblr, and just in time for [capritello week!](https://capritelloweek.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ironically, this fic is now longer than my already ongoing published story for capritello, but eh, who's to complain about even more trio content? and this one is finished, too, so y'all will be getting the complete thing within the week. oh and the title was inspired by [LIGHTS - Don't Go Home Without Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KHQZT06pQKw), because i'm dumb and romantic and the song makes me think of them. (i listened to it on repeat when writing a certain scene of this.... take a guess which it is later on.)
> 
> go check out on tumblr my other capritello week fic (there'll be a few more the next couple days), and please, enjoy some glorious mutual pining and eventual tension resolution.

It’s somewhere in the heat of it all, the storm and chaos of their lives, that Donnie makes a mistake.

It’s not until it’s all over, their weapons laid down and his father laid to rest, that he realizes the mistake.

It comes in a slow realization. It’s been there for months now, years in fact, but it’s been so subtle and ignored he never looked closely at it. There were other disasters in progress to deal with, other adventures and quests and battles to forge through. He never had time to stop, to breathe. Never had time to consider the way he considered his friends, and see that something was amiss.

It comes to him in fits and bursts, in quiet and chaotic moments. In the hours he spends in the dojo with April, her hair back in a tight ponytail and a teasing smile on her lips that distracts Donnie to no end. In the rambunctious group outings that send them howling like wild things across the rooftops, and Casey’s arm is slung across his shoulders in a surprise hug that leaves Donnie’s scales burning. In the evenings that they’re both with him, lazing around in the lab or on the lair couch, and it’s the mellow, familiar atmosphere of their conversations that have Donnie transfixed by their voices, their closeness to him, to each other.

It comes bit by bit to him. He knew he cared about April, felt attracted to her- watching her eyelashes flutter when she’s embarrassed and flustered, thinking about the grace and power she wields in a fight- that’s nothing new. And the way he listens, really _listens_ , to Casey when they’re working on the cars, when they’re hanging out in a lull without bickering or bantering, that’s not new either. And in truth, the quiet stirring of curiosity in Donnie when he watches Casey’s mouth move while he talks, the way he bites his lip when Casey undresses to his sleeveless undershirt… isn’t new at all.

Donnie is just suddenly and painfully aware of it all, once the realization settles into place.

Somewhere in the tangle of hardships and struggles and triumphs, Donnie fell in love with a second person. And however much he’s tried, that feeling doesn’t go away. He’s not even certain he’d want it to.

Wanting April like that was and is a wistful hope he has tried to slowly let go of over the years. Wanting _Casey_ like that is an even more painful hope that he has so little faith in ever achieving. Wanting them both at the same time…

Well. Donnie doesn’t even have words for how hopeless that is.

 

 

 

Despite having multiple people tell him to do otherwise, Donnie is early to rise and late to bed. It’s not the healthiest schedule ever, how little he sleeps. He doesn’t sleep sometimes until well into the daylight hours, and then rises regardless once it’s started to become twilight. Old habits learned during their years fighting the Shredder and other enemies. Either he works himself to the bone and sleeps as little as possible, or someone might get hurt.

Of course, that’s all over now days. What few sources of criminal activity left in New York are either well under the heel of Karai and the Foot clan, or so far below Donnie and his family’s caliber they’re barely worth noticing. Things have changed a lot since he was fifteen and new to the surface world.

Donnie is appreciative of the peace, he really is. He doesn’t have to check over his shoulder as much anymore, and his inventions actually last longer than a week before they breakdown from usage. It’s only been a few months since it started, and his and his brothers’ birthday is coming up later in the year. They’ll actually get to turn eighteen, and after everything they’ve survived, that’s an accomplishment in itself.

But it’s weird. And a little frustrating. The abrupt lack of life or death situations- outside of the ones they cause on their own- has really taken getting used to. There’s suddenly no new obstacles for Donnie to invent a way around, no enemy firepower he has to counter in the span of a few hours. There’s just... so much space to just exist, now. Donnie had gotten so used to thinking and solving and building endlessly, and now his head feels… rather empty.

Well, that’s not quite true. It’s just empty of helpfully distracting paranoia and adrenaline. Instead it’s filled up with spaces left by those things, and the things that fill those spaces vary. Some of them get filled by books and shows he finally has time to catch up on. Some get filled by nightly activities spent with his brothers, aimless and free feeling. And some of them…

Donnie tries to keep those spaces empty, but they get filled up anyway. Pesky daydreams and imaginings that can’t and won’t come true, and are pointless to think about. There’s no point in imagining getting close enough to smell April’s brand of shampoo, of feeling its softness and getting to comb his fingers through it. And there’s no point in imaging what Casey’s faint chin stubble might feel like against his cheeks, of pulling his bandana off and pushing back his hair to see his whole face.

Donnie has spent his entire life making do. Of keeping his expectations realistic and grounded. Leading a life as an unregistered, subterranean being has taught him that sometimes he just won’t get to have things. It’s plain fact that some desires will remain out of his reach permanently- schooling, becoming a recognized scientist, having more friends than the small handful he does- and having feelings for two different people is one of those impossible desires.

It’s not even just the duality of his affections that’s the problem. It’s that someone _returning_ his affections is so highly unlikely.

He’d dreamed about it, sure, when he met April. Of her looking at him as more than an ally and acquaintance. But that had only gone so far as to become a friendship. Not that Donnie doesn’t appreciate that relationship on its own; April is his best friend, no doubt about that. He’s trying his hardest to not ruin that relationship with his runaway feelings.

Casey is… also his best friend, though not quite the way April is to him, and not quite the way Casey is to Raph. But they’re still close enough to call the relationship that, even if they sometimes get a little fed up with one another. Donnie wanting to try kissing Casey would ruin that as badly as it would with April.

He’d dreamt about it, hoped for it, and laid awake in the day thinking in circles about how wonderful it would be to have his first girlfriend. Then war had set in, and bit by bit, he woke up from the daydream of April being more than his best friend and fighting partner. Casey’s appearance and subsequent infuriating, incomprehensible attractiveness happened too late after that point for Donnie to work up a proper daydream. They were all too old by then for that kind of thing; too experienced with failures and letdowns from life.

Donnie probably didn’t notice his feelings for Casey because of that reason. Up until now, it had been _go go go_ with absolutely everything, and only now have things slowed down enough Donnie can take a moment observe his friend. _Guiltily_ observe Casey, and April, and the both of them together…

By now, Donnie should know better than to pre-emptively break his own heart. After all, in every romance someone could possibly find, the love triangles never resolve by staying a triangle, and the inhuman creature isn’t the one to get the happily ever after.

He tries to remember that, but he always goes right back to square one of pining away when he makes April laughs hard enough she turns red, or Casey makes a particularly dumbass statement and fixes a confident smirk on Donnie. It’s always the little things that get him worst of all.

In a bizarre and somewhat self-destructive way, Donnie misses the constant fighting. At least back then he didn’t have time to stare wistfully after his friends and feel like a lovesick kid all over again.

 

 

 

On a perfectly average evening, Donnie is already awake by the time his alarm goes off. He rolls over to pick up his phone from the side table and turns it off. It’s after six, which is fairly early for a nocturnal person. He usually gets up around now regardless; half out of habit, half out of preference for the early evening quiet. The only other person who used to get up this early was his father, and now it’s just Donnie.

The absence of his father, shuffling around with his tail softly scuffing the floor, is something Donnie misses still. But it’ll be a year in a few more months since his death, and the ache of loss has dulled bit by bit to a healing scar. Someday, he hopes he can look at Splinter’s alter and remember the better things of growing up, instead of the night they all lost him.

Donnie sits up, yawning wide. His eyes sting only slightly, given he went to bed around ten. Not for any particular reason; just another late day of aimlessly tinkering at things in his lab, trying to find something to occupy himself with. Sleep deprivation technically counts as such.

He moves the covers off himself and slides out of bed. He leaves his mask and tool belt behind for the moment, intent on taking a shower he didn’t have energy for the past… three days? It’d actually gotten a little busy for a bit there, since Dr. Rockwell had called him up to come help do repairs around the Mutanimals’ hideout. A couple nights spent hunched in awkward rafters and swivel chairs, fighting with the security system, had actually been therapeutic for Donnie. He likes having projects, and helping out his friends is as good as any.

Of course, when it was all over, all he had was a worse than usual crick in his neck and once again nothing to occupy himself with. Hence the long night of aimless tinkering.

Tonight is thankfully a group hangout. Since its Friday, and April and Casey’s diplomas are over, they can all chill out and do whatever they want the whole night. No early appointments or tests to worry about; just junk food and whatever they feel like getting up to.

Donnie is looking forwards to, but also dreading the evening. Which is the usual cocktail of feelings he has about seeing those two particular friends; with a dash of guilt and internal frustration if he’s feeling especially masochistic.

He applies his tried and true tactic of combatting those feelings: not thinking about them at all.

The hall outside his bedroom is dark and silent, his brothers still sleeping. Donnie passes by their doors with equally silent steps to avoid disturbing any of them. It’s unpredictable who’s going to wake at the slightest sound; they all have days where just a soft scuffle of stone can wake them immediately, and then… there are days where they sleep like dead. Not a whole lot of grey area in between.

It seems to be the latter tonight. Donnie opens and shuts the bathroom without anyone making an appearance, and he knows he’ll probably have peace until a little while after his shower. That’s about the time Leo rises to do solo practice, and Mikey drags himself from bed to make a decent meal for them all, and Raph… will probably get hauled out of his room by Donnie.

He’ll deal with that arduous process later. Donnie passes by the other utilities of the bathroom and steps into the shower row. The bathroom is a semi-converted small locker room from when the lair was still a train station; it’s got three shower stalls and a row of toilets, along with a long stretch of counter for sinks and a similarly spanning mirror. It sometimes requires repairs, what with old pipes and tiling breaking from wear, but its serves its purpose for a family that grows and shrinks nightly.

And the hot water rarely runs out, so that’s a pleasant bonus. Donnie turns the tap and steps aside, waiting for it to warm up fully. When it has, he puts his head under and scrubs his face. The shampoo is on a rack in the corner, stacked with half-finished bottles. None of them have the same labels as the other, since on supply runs they tend to just grab whatever is available.

He blindly picks a bottle, and gets one with cucumber slices on the front. Good enough. He washes his head, arms, legs, and then reaches for the loofah stick to get his shell. Which, as always, is a bit frustrating. He’s flexible, has to be as a ninja, but it’s _hard_ getting all the right spots. Even with mutated anatomy, turtle shells just don’t want to let you bend a certain way sometimes. Donnie re-experiences that every time he has to scrub the grime and excess keratin off himself.

He knows he’s missing a spot when he gives up, but who cares. It’ll get dirty again before midnight even rolls around. Might as well embrace being a slightly filthy teenager for the remaining two years he has.

It irks him though, that without some assistance, his own anatomy works against his efforts like that. Enough that when he turns off the shower, standing over the drain and watching soap swirl into it, Donnie’s found himself in a bit of a mood.

He steps out and towels off, grabbing one from the rack beside the showers. At least toweling is easy, all he has to do is hold each end around himself and rub his shell. As he moves over to the sink to brush his teeth, he sees that the mirror has fogged over from the steam.

Donnie hangs the towel around his neck, and runs a hand across the glass to clean it. His scaled face comes back into view within a couple swipes, and he reaches for his toothbrush and paste. As he’s brushing, he can’t help but examine himself in the mirror. Donnie tilts his head to check he’s getting all the right places in his mouth, and tries to ignore the gap in his teeth that’s been there for years.

He fails tonight. Donnie stops brushing, staring at the gap, and takes in the rest of his face along with it.

It’s annoying. That not only does he have to deal with being a mutant turtle, but he doesn’t even get properly aligned teeth like his brothers. Just another small thing that is largely insignificant, but tacks on a little more discomfort he has with being who he is. What he is.

Bad trail of thought to follow, but sometimes you just need to wallow for a moment in self-pity about things you can’t change.

Donnie finishes brushing, spits, and rinses his mouth before looking in the mirror again. As always, a too flat face, too large eyes, and misaligned teeth look back at him.

Donnie drags his hands down his face and groans. It’s too early for this sort of thing.

He exits the bathroom, passing by the slivers of light coming from underneath Leo and Mikey’s doors. In his room he ties on his mask and fastens his belt; finishing the dressing process off with his kneepads and bandages. Not that any of those things hides what he really looks like, but habits are habits, and it’s routine.

When he leaves his room again, he tries to put those thoughts out of his head and focus on the rest of the evening. He’s somewhat successful.

 

 

 

The two of them arrive separately. Casey strolling in first, hands in his hoodie pocket and a casual slouch to his posture as he greets them all with fist bumps. April rushes in not much later, practically (or perhaps even literally, it’s hard to tell sometimes) flying over the turnstiles and skidding to a halt.

“Sorry!” she says, somewhat out of breath. “Got stuck on the wrong side of the city. Dress shopping, right? Hard to find- _whew-_ one that’s good for emergency combat. Oh ow my side, _hh.”_

“Just wear something you already got,” Casey suggests. “It’s just the ceremony, not the actual prom thing yet.”

April gives him a disapproving look, and then rolls her eyes. _Men,_ she says with her whole body, thoroughly disgusted. Donnie chuckles at her display of frustration.

“We’re _graduating,”_ April stresses. “I did not survive three _severely interrupted and disrupted_ years of high school and save the city at _least_ twenty times through each one, to just wear something I already own to my graduation ceremony.”

“I’m just wearing my dad’s old tux,” Casey says, and April groans.

“I never dress up for anything, dammnit. I’m dressing up for this if it’s the last thing I do.”

“I’m sure you’ll look great no matter what you end up wearing,” Donnie says before he can help himself, because he really does believe that April would look beautiful in anything she put on. Her pinked cheeks and shove to his arm in response makes Donnie feel a little warm in the face. Thank god no one can tell, scales and all that.

His friends are then distracted by his brothers, who are also starting to clump in with them and talk about what’s gone on lately. Donnie takes a seat on the couch while they all chatter, comfortable just watching everyone interact.

He’s pleased that April takes the spot next to him, curling up her toned legs on the cushion and distracting Donnie for a moment by taking out her ponytail to fix it. It’s Casey flopping down into the _other_ spot next to Donnie that shakes him from his side eyeing. Donnie would have expected Casey to sit nearer to Raph, but their mutual human friend is just a little closer to Donnie tonight.

Donnie tucks himself into his spot best he can, trying to be casual about keeping himself to himself. The two bodies on either side of him still feel too close, and yet too far away.

“Alright!” Leo says when they’re all gathered, clapping his hands to draw their attentions. “What’re we doing tonight?”

Mikey raises his hand first. “I vote we break into TCRI and steal a ship again and-”

“And I’m stopping you there, because we’re not getting shot at by the military tonight if I can help it. Next idea?”

“We find people to beat up.”

“Thank you Raph, how very original of you. Ideas for things we _don’t_ usually do?”

“Break into a rink and play scrimmage?” Casey suggests, nudging Donnie’s leg and giving him a challenging smirk. Donnie rolls his eyes, fighting the tug at his lips.

“We don’t fit skates, idiot,” Donnie reminds with a huff. For the moment, he tries to cross his legs to make his overly large feet a little less conspicuous. “You and April would have unfair advantage.”

“Sounds like a good game to me,” April says sweetly, mischievousness glinting in her eyes.

“Only because you’d _win,_ ” Donnie says.

“Exactly,” April replies, matching Casey’s smug grin towards them all. Mostly Donnie, it feels like. He tries not to smile in response, and has to look away to succeed.

“Too cold,” Raph vetoes gruffly. He crosses his arms. “Next idea: we break into an arcade.”

“Ooh, I like that idea,” Mikey chimes in. “We can use the concession stand for _real_ fake cheese nachos and popcorn, and not like, the fake fake stuff we do here.”

“Why does everything we do have to involve breaking into places?” Leo asks in a put upon voice.

“Turtles, Leo,” Donnie reminds blandly, gesturing at the four of them. “Duh. We’re not exactly allowed anywhere legally.”

“We have more options than that, now! We can try being legal, just once. Maybe we can visit Karai, see what she’s up to.”

Raph snorts. “Uh, our sister is a literal crime lord? Legal isn’t exactly something she’s good with.”

“I thought we were suggesting things we _don’t_ usually do,” April says.

Leo sighs loudly. “Okay, we’re getting nowhere. Can we skip this part and just get to the point where we all get fed up trying to go out and just watch whatever movie marathon is on TV? I just decided I don’t want to do this the hundredth time in a row.”

Mikey dives for the remote in a flurry of movement. “ _I call first dibs!”_

Donnie doesn’t bother trying to wrestle for the remote. Raph and Mikey _and_ Leo have that covered, arguing over what channel they want to tune into first. Donnie is content to wait until the first movie is chosen, and _then_ strike as the chance to pick the second comes up. To better conserve his energy that way.

That, and Casey didn’t move his knee away when he nudged Donnie’s leg. It’s been there this whole while, and Donnie’s scales are starting to feel warm on that spot. With the added factor of having April on his right, elbow bumping his every now and again as she kicks at whichever brother gets too near… Donnie is too weak to make himself move just yet. Not when he gets to be in the middle of them, hearing their voices and laughter equally.

It’s the ideal situation but also the worst case scenario, and Donnie doesn’t have the will to make it stop at the moment.

For a bit, he languishes in quiet contentment and torment, and is finally relieved when Mikey calls for assistance getting food together, and April (the only other person he really trusts in his kitchen, which it is, because none of them can cook well besides Mikey) gets up from the couch to go help. It leaves Casey, their knees still pressed together, until Raph grabs their friend by his collar and hauls Casey in to be backup in a debate with Leo. The finer points of Super Smash Bros have never before been so intensely discussed, except for last week when Donnie said he could pass on Kirby within Mikey’s hearing range.

Donnie sighs, disappointed and relieved all at once that he’s alone again, and gets off the couch to join the increasingly heated controversy. He sides with Leo simply because it makes things equal, and actually doesn’t particularly care if in theoretical real life whether Charizard or Lucario would win in a brawl. They only stop because April and Mikey come back, and threaten to throw popcorn at them until they shut up.

The channel playing a sci-fi film is turned on, if only because Leo managed earlier to convince everyone the movie has something for everyone. Leo is a complete liar- Donnie already suspected it, they _all_ already suspected it- but _After Earth_ is still a decent enough movie everyone sits down and shuts up for the most part.

_“Decent?”_ Leo says in an offended tone, when Mikey makes that comment.

“They could’ve gotten more creative with the aliens,” Mikey says, popping a few kernels into his mouth. “Even the Mutanimals are more interesting than those guys.”

“It’s not about the aliens! It’s about the _relationship_ between Will Smith and Jaden Smith’s characters-”

“Still could’ve gone weirder with the designs, and yo, Leo. Your dad issues are showing.”

“Agreed,” Donnie says, as the rest of them laugh. Leo throws popcorn at all of them. Mikey just snaps up the ones tossed at him, right out of the air with his mouth.

Donnie rolls his eyes as the squabbling dies down, the movie coming back on screen as commercials end. Mikey would fit right in with half the aliens on television, honestly.

All of them would, if Donnie is truthful. Which he dislikes to be, regarding that subject.

He focuses on the movie, and on the way April makes sympathetic sounds as they reach the tragic backstory scene- the older sister losing her life as she defends the main character, falling in battle to a monster’s talon through her chest. There’s a lull during that part, and Donnie doesn’t let the old grief of their own tragic backstories reach him too closely.

It catches them all off guard, sometimes. Things that remind them of Splinter and his passing. The movie proceeds quickly though, and Donnie lets the feeling of that nightmare slip away.

It’s still a little soured for him, watching the movie come to completion. Enough that when time comes to choose the next one, he’s not really in the mood to keep sitting still. Donnie prefers to work through his feelings by working on something until they’re gone. Not the best coping mechanism ever, but it’s a productive one at least.

As the credits roll, he stands with a slow stretch. His arms and legs pop- an unfortunate side effect of how often he sits hunched over his computers and tinier projects- and he lets out a satisfied sigh as his muscles ache pleasantly. As he lowers his arms, he notices that Casey is watching him from the beanbag he snagged at the start of the movie.

Donnie looks away, not really sure how to address that. It’s just a night he feels a little more sensitive about how he looks than he normally is, and though Casey’s curiosity is as harmless as it always is, he’d still prefer to not be watched too closely tonight.

“I think I’m gonna work in the garage for a bit,” he says, given that they’re barely started with the marathon and will no doubt have another movie for him to join later. There’s a vague acknowledgement of him leaving, waves and friendly smiles sent his way. Donnie departs without another word, moving out of the dim of the lair and into the dimmer tunnels.

The walk to the garage calms him, settling the slight disruption of his internal rhythm. Donnie always feels better when he knows he’s going to go work on a project. Hardly ever does the trick fail to help him steady himself, no matter how small or big the problem is.

Donnie however notes that there’s a set of footsteps following him, and he turns.

Casey saunters towards him, hands in his hoodie’s pocket and an easy smile on his lips. Donnie’s heart does a ridiculous skip of its beat.

“Yo,” Casey greets casually, catching up with Donnie, “thought you could use a second pair of hands.”

Donnie just about rolls his eyes. “Sure. You can hand me the wrench.”

“If you think I’m gonna let you work on our new baby _without me,_ I’m filing for a divorce,” Casey snarks. “We have joint custody, gear hog.”

“According to the government, I don’t even exist, so good luck with that divorce,” Donnie snarks back, and doesn’t allow himself to feel awkward about the teasing. Even if it makes a tiny part of him make the sound of a dial tone.

Marriage is impossible for him- and _really_ irrational to think about, he’s not even in a relationship with anyone, god- and Donnie elbows Casey’s side to distract from the derailing conversation in his head. Casey retaliates with his pointy as sin elbows, and then complains that Donnie’s, quote, _“stupid cartilage,”_ is getting in the way of enacting revenge.

Donnie calls him an idiot for trying, and buries the mildly embarrassed twinge about his stiffly armored midriff.

The car they’ve recently hauled into the garage tunnels is right where they left it. Donnie hadn’t been planning to work on it specifically- the Shellraiser and Party Wagon can always use tune ups and maintenance checks- but now that Casey has offered to keep company, Donnie is happy to switch targets.

The frame of it is mostly exposed, majority of its outer shell pulled off so they can get at the vital bits and leave Raph to do what he will with the new paint job. The sheets of metal are set along the wall, most with half-finished ideas for the final project painted onto them. The rest of it though has been all Donnie and Casey’s work.

They’ve broken the engine down into a number of pieces, all scattered on tables dragged close to the sturdy old van’s skeleton. They’re aiming to finish mixing and matching from Donnie’s parts stock sometime soon, and get to overhauling the internal design and dashboard. Install a weapons system that’ll make their old ones look like nothing in comparison.

Casey wants another missile launcher, like their previous two vehicles. Donnie doesn’t disagree, but he wants to improve his targeting programs before they do anything. And also maybe try lasers derived from Dimension-X tech.

Casey tugs off his hoodie as they get there and tosses it into the front seat of the car; exposing the worn black t-shirt he has underneath. It’s for a band Donnie doesn’t know, but he can appreciate how the swooping, aggressive font spread across it looks on Casey. It suits him, like the efficient but cute clothes April tends towards suit her.

Donnie reminds himself ogling so often his friends’ appearances, and what suits them or not, is a little over the line. He pulls himself away from that thought, and instead goes to select his favored tools, as Casey has already started doing.

 “So what’re you feeling tonight?” Casey asks, hauling the mobile tool box towards the car. “Under, over, or inside?”

“Inside,” Donnie replies, steering his friend and their tools towards the open hood of the engine. “I don’t feel like getting oil on my _whole_ body tonight. Too much work to clean after.”

“Fair enough, ‘s easier with just the arms, right?”

“And your face. You had a third eyebrow last time.”

“Man, fuck off. I was preoccupied, and Casey Jones looks good no matter _what.”_

Donnie internally agrees, but externally shoves the back of Casey’s head and says, “ _Sure_ you do, Jones. Keep telling yourself that.”

Casey punches Donnie in the shoulder for it, and there’s a friendly scuffle before they settle enough to actually work.

After that, it’s the usual kind of steady rhythm they fall into. Half their attention on the engine, the other half on each other and the conversation. It’s mostly casual small talk, peppered with insults that aren’t actually meant, and aren’t taken to heart as such.

“You’re really just wearing your dad’s old tux?”

“Yeah, it’s still good. Kinda smells like mothballs but its fine.”

“I don’t think April agrees with that.”

“The mothball smell is easy to fix, I just gotta wear enough cologne-”

“I don’t think that’s the problem, Casey-”

“What, _I_ don’t see any issues wearing it. Its outdated, but my dad was a snazzy dresser!”

“Okay so seeing as I don’t wear pants ever, and you wear the same ones for up to three weeks in a row, I doubt we have right to judge on the snazziness of the tux.”

“It’s snazzy as fuck, shut up.”

“I haven’t seen it, but I’ll take that with at least a pound of salt.”

“What?”

“You know, the expression? Taking something with a grain of salt-?”

“Oh, right, right, I knew that- wait, hey _fuck_ _you_ -”

“The amount of salt I end up having to take whenever I talk to you, Casey, is raising my cholesterol levels to a dangerous point. I may have to see you less- or! You can just stop spewing nonsense-”

“Mangled ass metaphor- that doesn’t even make _sense_ anymore-”

“I’m still _right-”_

“About _what?”_

“Everything.”

Casey reaches towards Donnie and smacks his shoulder. It leaves a smear of engine grime, and in retaliation, Donnie shoves Casey away by his face. Casey splutters into his palm, and when Donnie releases him, there’s black grease smudged everywhere Donnie touched.

“Five eyebrows this time,” Donnie remarks, sniggering.

Casey fixes a mock serious look on him. “Oh, now you _done it-”_

He goes to jab at Donnie with the small wrench in his hands. Donnie parries with his own, with a little more force than he should in the rush to do so, and Casey’s wrench goes flying out of his hand. Right into the depths of the engine, and making clunks all the way down as it goes.

_“Shit-!”_

_“SHIT-!”_

They both dive for it, running into one another as they try to find the escaped tool. Donnie unfortunately finds his hand is too large to fit through the small gap it’s disappeared into, and has to admit defeat and let Casey retrieve it, human fingers and wrist much thinner than a mutant turtle’s.

“Ah _ha,_ got it,” Casey waves the tool, looking smug for no real reason. Donnie rolls his eyes, leaning on the edge of the open hood beside Casey.

“Congrats, you got back the wrench _you_ dropped,” Donnie says dryly.

“Excuse you, _you_ are the one who made me drop it in the first place,” Casey retorts.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You need to brush up on your wrench fencing skills, Casey. That was just sad.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of studying lately! I’m out of practice and there for should get a pass on this loss. Invalidated.”

“Denied pass and it’s still valid. You’re just a sore loser.”

“Casey Jones is _never_ a loser. I’m fly as fuck.”

“Casey Jones talks about himself in third person, constantly.”

“And?”

“And you’re a weirdo.”

“Says you.”

“Says me. I think between us, I have a pretty good opinion about what constitutes as being a weirdo…”

“You got opinion on what’s nerdy, _not_ on the innate value of my obvious dopeness.”

“Why do you use that word, you sound-”

“Cool as fuck?”

“Like a-”

“Rad guy?”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Mikey- let me _finish-”_

“Finish what?” Casey smirks, leaning a little closer. “Giving a totally incorrect summary of me and my inherit awesomeness?”

Donnie is aware he’s also moved closer, and smirks back. “You’re inherit dumbassery, more like.”

Casey is very close now, and Donnie can see the faintest pock marks in his friend’s face, can smell the grease he smeared there earlier. “You sure about that, Donnie? Are you _really_ sure about that?”

Donnie’s mouth feels dry, looking into Casey’s brown eyes. “Pretty damn sure, given I’ve spent far too many years around you and have unfortunately ended up with a very detailed… account of your… idiotic behaviors…”

Donnie feels distant from himself, floating away from reality and barely aware he’s leaning forwards. Only half aware that Casey might be doing the same thing, closing the space between them inch by inch. They’d already been so close for the last half hour, fussing with the engine and about stupid conversation topics, and now there’s hardly any distance left, the faint feeling of Casey’s breath ghosting near Donnie’s face-

Maybe Casey, too, wants-

Donnie leans in, eyes half closed-

Casey jerks away abruptly, eyes wide. Donnie freezes.

“Wh,” Casey says, voice small. “What’re you doing?”

Donnie’s heart clenches. He doesn’t see even a hint of reciprocation, just… startled confusion, maybe even fear.

“I,” he manages to whisper. He swallows, trying to find something to explain himself. “I thought…”

Casey steps backwards, away from the car, away from Donnie. He looks lost.

“Casey,” Donnie says weakly. “Wait, I- I’m-”

“Sorry,” Casey says, voice shaking slightly. He glances over his shoulder, taking another few steps back. “I. Sorry. I gotta go.”

He turns and walks away quickly, breaking into a run as he disappears into the tunnel back towards the lair. Donnie is left all alone in the garage, still frozen where he stands and feeling like the ground is falling out from underneath him.

Slowly, Donnie lowers his head to stare at the stone under his feet. A thick feeling of mortification and regret swells up in him, choking and heavy in his throat. He clenches his fists, cheeks burning and eyes stinging. Numbly, he reaches to the top of the tool box, taking a rag from there and wiping off the grease of his hands. It blackens steadily as he breathes in, and lets it out in a ragged gust. He drops it back on the tool box as everything in him swirls sickeningly.

Of course he’d been wrong, of _course_ that hadn’t been what Casey- _why_ would Casey even consider doing that? And Donnie- he’d misread everything, he’d totally and completely missed every cue to wake up from his daydream. Of _course_ Casey wasn’t going to kiss him. Of course not, why would he… why would _anyone…?_

Donnie swipes at his eyes, pulling down his mask and scrubbing roughly. He grits his teeth as another wave of humiliation runs through him, bitter and aching and what he deserves for messing everything up like that. If it had been April- at least with _April_ he could have used his old crush as an excuse, not totally destroyed their relationship, she’s long since gotten used to his pathetic one-sided pining after her… but Casey hasn’t.

Donnie kicks the bumper of the car, cursing himself for being an idiot, for thinking even for a _second_ that the _least_ likely person in this equation to return his feelings _did_ return them-

He’s supposed to be a genius. Geniuses don’t hit on their straight friends like that, don’t try to _kiss them_ out of the blue. Donnie is a self-sabotaging idiot and even if Casey forgives him for trying that, they’re done. Their friendship as it is will be over and Donnie will lose what little he’s gotten to have of Casey.

And there’s no way that won’t get noticed, no way the reason behind their sudden distance won’t get out. They’re all too tightly knit, his brothers will know, _April_ will know…

He swore to himself, he _swore_ he could have just this, be _okay_ with how things were, and he still couldn’t keep himself in check. And look where breaking that promise has gotten him.

Donnie has singlehandedly ruined everything for himself.

He numbly walks around the side of the stripped down car, sitting on the threadbare carpet inside it and putting his head in his hands. He notes out of the corner of his eye that Casey forgot his hoodie in the front seat in his rush to leave, and a feeling of despairing resignation wells up in Donnie.

Will his friend even want to spend time alone with him anymore, like this? In the garage, or the lab, or just on the couch or a rooftop. Aimless and calm and spending time in a company that had settled into a steady rhythm of give and take, prod and poke, making jokes about each other that are only done out of mutual affection.

It just wasn’t ever the affection Donnie wanted from Casey. And now he won’t even have that anymore.

Donnie sighs heavy and hard, rubbing his eyes and hiding from even himself. He never should have even let those thoughts take root, should have shut them down back when it was just April he cared for. He’s not human; he doesn’t _get_ things like that. He gets to live underground and out of sight, cared about but never beyond friendship and family.

It’s just biology, he reasons to himself, it’s just a fact that no one would want to be like _that_ with him. Strange and unorthodox relationships in fiction are only that. Fiction. No one genuinely wants to have someone like him touch them, want them, love them…

Least of all his friends, it seems.

Donnie lists sideways, leaning against the frame of the vehicle and staring without focus. He can’t think past the overwhelming shame of his mistakes, can’t find the will to do anything other than wallow in the painful rejection he’s received.

He glances down at his lap, where his three fingered hands are clasped loosely together. He turns his palms upwards, staring at them and trying to fathom why he ever thought romance of any kind was in the cards for him.

He’s got scales instead of skin. He’s got a shell on his back and three sets of eyelids. His eyes are _red_ and he doesn’t even have proper _lips._

Donnie has been delusional to think that anyone could look past that, let alone that two people possibly could.

For a time, he sits there. Alone with a project that was supposed to be shared, and feeling painfully young and foolish.

Mikey finds him later, long after their human friends have returned home, and when questioned about what’s wrong, why he’s been gone so long, is there anything he needs-?

Donnie just brushes off the kindness, and asks to be left alone. Clearly unwilling, but respectful enough to let him go, Mikey backs off. Mechanically, Donnie goes to his lab, and locks the door behind him. There are no positive emotions in him as he turns to his ongoing projects, fingers numbly curling around tools and half-finished repairs.

Donnie shuts himself down, and lets time slip away without meaning as he works.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a lil more of the fic, as i run out the door to work.
> 
> enjoy these kids and their badly handled emotions.

Casey isn’t sure why he’s running, but he is. He doesn’t even stop to say goodbye to the rest of the brothers or April- just sprinting through the dark tunnels and headed for some place that’s anywhere but _here._

As the cold of the night air washes over him, Casey finally stops running and realizes he’s gone from the underground to the streets of New York without really noticing. The streetlights illuminate the walkway he’s standing on, and he only vaguely remembers the process of climbing out of the sewers to get here.

A brisk wind gusts over Casey’s exposed skin, causing goosebumps down his bare arms. Casey realizes he left his hoodie behind, and is now starting to shiver slightly in the cool night air.

Casey almost rubs his face, but stops when he sees his blackened fingers and palms. From working on the engine, with-

With Donnie.

Who he just. Left there.

The irrationality of Casey’s reaction catches up with him, as well as the reason for that irrationality.

Donnie- or maybe Casey- _one of them almost-_

Casey sucks in a ragged breath, noticing his sides are aching from sprinting. His face burns everywhere Donnie left grease smears, and despite his lips being left untouched, Casey has to press his mouth into a tight line to stop the tingle there.

This is a dumb thing to panic over. This is a completely valid thing to panic over. Casey’s head is swirling and he’s not even sure what to address first, especially with the memory fresh and vibrant flashing through his mind on repeat, accusing him, enticing him, asking him _why didn’t he just let it happen-_

It’s been a long week. Casey is exhausted and wound up and too confused to think about anything clearly. He goes home.

Heavy, heavy guilt settles in his chest as he walks; thick and molasses like, sinking into his lungs and making it hard to breathe. He’s cold as he moves through the mostly empty streets, shivering now and again for his missing hoodie.

Casey’s hand leaves prints on the knob as he turns it, entering his family apartment earlier than he planned to. If anything, there’d been a chance he’d pass out on the lair couch and just stay there until he woke the next day. Obviously, for reasons, that isn’t happening.

Maybe it won’t happen again any time soon, despite it becoming a regular occurrence on weekends as he got closer with the brothers. Because of-

- _jokes and sarcasm leading up to something without them noticing, their shoulders pressed together, Donnie’s eyes glinting bright red under the light of the garage tunnel, so close to Casey’s face as they-_

Because of that. Happening. Or not happening. Probably because of both.

Casey is exhausted. He doesn’t want to think about what any of this means, or the implications it holds.

Casey kicks off his shoes in the entryway. He pads through his home, keeping his steps quiet to avoid disturbing his family. His dad and sister’s bedroom doors are shut tight, and from the looks of things both of them are already sleeping. Casey’s kid sister is barely middle school age, and his dad works from before dawn until evening. Both of them have sensible sleeping schedules, while Casey tends to come and go and take naps at any hour of the day.

Because of his friends, right? The brothers are all nocturnal, and April isn’t much better off, so that’s the only hours Casey can hang with them all at the same time.

The only hours Casey can hang out with both Donnie and April at the same time.

Casey groans to himself about looping back to them, and goes inside the washroom to clean up.

Black grease turns the water murky; swirling down the sink drain in quiet shushes. Casey hesitates briefly, and then brings a washcloth to his face to wipe off the grime Donnie smeared on him.

He can’t even meet the eyes of his reflection in the mirror. He feels like a coward, and a supremely shitty friend.

Casey finishes up getting ready for bed in the bathroom, though he doubts he’ll sleep easy. This is earlier than he’s used to on a weekend, and he’s got… all _sorts_ of prickling jumbled thoughts in his head. Shuffling through his home dejectedly, Casey enters his bedroom and shuts the door quietly behind himself. Flopping onto his bed still in his street clothes, he gives into the desire to just lie down and berate himself over this whole thing.

Alright so that was. A _thing._ A definite thing. Donnie and him had a bit of a… moment…?

Casey covers his eyes with his arm, sighing.

He doesn’t even know what happened there. One second everything was normal, next thing he knew, they were too close for comfort or casualness and everything before and after that is a blur.

But it _happened._ And what’s that supposed to mean? For him and Donnie, and for them and… April.

_April._

Casey and Donnie didn’t actually- _you know-_ so it’s not actually a _thing,_ right? But if Donnie has bizarrely switched teams he’s batting for, and- wants to make out with _Casey_ and not _April_ , against all evidence of pretty much the entire time Casey’s known both of his friends, then-

Then where does that leave Casey, who definitely wants to make out with _both_ of them?

Casey rolls over and puts his face into the comforter of his bed, muffling a scream of frustration.

It’s not _fair._ What is he even supposed to _do_ with this? April definitely likes Donnie at least a little- Casey’s suspected, basically _known_ , since the first point he joined them in things. They’re not just close, they’re _close,_ and even though April never said yes or no and Donnie’s backed off over the years she still… really cares about him. It’s pretty obvious in how they interact, that both Donnie and April care a _ton_ about each other, and Casey’s been inserting himself between them for so long now he apparently missed Donnie’s affection for April transferring to _Casey._

And that sets a spark of excitement in Casey, in a way that _burns,_ and he’d be lying if a large, very stupid part of himself regrets not seeing the kiss through. Because Donnie gets under his skin and makes him want to be _better,_ to win whatever meaningless challenge they’ve made that night. Because Donnie is ten times smarter than anyone on earth, but still makes stupid mistakes Casey can catch and tease him about, and make his friend bluster and snap in a way that’s their own private joke. Being aggravating as possible, but not actually, and having half the actual conversation be hidden under three layers of sarcasm and snark, with most of it being downright friendly at times. Downright _affectionate._

Casey will admit it, if only to himself for the hundredth time, that he’s got it _bad_ for his stupidly smart friend. He rolls onto his back again, staring up at his dark ceiling.

So. Casey likes Donnie. A lot. But Casey also likes April. Also a lot. Like, the kind of _like_ where he wants to be her date to grad and take her to dinner to meet his dad and sister, wants to see her light up when she gets her college acceptance letters, wants to be with her every step of the way through higher education and beyond and never ever stop getting to sidle up to her on cool nights on a rooftop and say, _“Hey, Red,”_ and see her smile at him in a way that makes him want to grin like a loon. _That_ kind of like.

April is fierce and witty and able to kick just about anyone’s ass whenever she wants to, and that’s always been something Casey felt captured by, ensnared by this girl he thought he’d have a few study sessions with and be done, but ended up being dragged into a world far more dangerous, and far more _metal_ than he ever could have imagined.

Where he met Donnie. And realized, _shit,_ _I’m not the only one_ , seeing how Donnie looked at April like she was the best thing to ever happen to him.

Which, Casey admits, is something he shares feelings on. Without April, Casey wouldn’t have seen nor done any of the things he had, and without April… Casey likely wouldn’t have ever met the brothers.

Which would have meant he’d have none of the best friends he does now, and he wouldn’t have had Donnie. Who is… more than that.

Or Casey _wants_ him to be more than that, but there’s _April,_ and Casey thought Donnie only wanted April like that in this whole equation, and that made it so much easier to just shove down his unwelcome feelings and keep things level between them all. Easier to pretend that the feud over April was long put to rest and they were all just _friends_ now.

Casey didn’t want to think about these things, but here he is. Thinking in circles. Miserable, miserable circles, and making no progress for it.

Casey finally reaches the memories of the actual event causing all this thinking- finally having looped so many times he can’t avoid it any longer- and the startled expression Donnie had, the look of surprise that Casey was pulling away, the flash of hurt in his eyes as Casey stuttered out a half-assed reason to leave-

Casey groans.

He is. The worst.

 

 

 

Casey barely sleeps.  Thank god it’s Saturday.

He spends the whole morning lying in bed, feeling sorry for himself. He managed to drop his jeans on the floor at some point, and get under the blankets, but other than that he’s wearing day old clothing. Not the longest he’s ever gone, but he’s got oil on his shirt in places, which is a reminder of why he feels so shitty.

He got a few texts before sunrise, and a few hours after it, too, but Casey ignored his phone the whole time. He’s still ignoring it, when his little sister comes into his room and sits on his legs.

He hides his face in his pillow and prays for a miracle that she’ll just leave if he doesn’t answer.

“Get up!” _No luck, huh?_ “We’re going grocery shopping, and then shoe shopping, ‘cause I know you’ll wear your converse to grad if I don’t make you put on nice shoes.”

“Mmrg,” Casey replies intelligently, which he means to mean _Go away demon child, I want to stew in my misery._

“Casey.”

“ _Mmrr.”_

“ _Caaaaaasey._ C’mon. We’ll go to the thrift store. You love the thrift store.”

“No… leave me ‘lone…”

He can feel her glaring at him, and it’s only because his sister has evilly sharp elbows he’s forced out of bed.

Casey is bullied and kvetched into getting dressed, eating leftovers, and walking out the front door under his own power. Admittedly, walking around with a sleep deprivation headache and following his sister’s instructions is slightly better than thinking about the night before.

It still sucks though, because everything sucks, and Casey sucks most of all. Especially since he’s being a total coward _again,_ and has willfully left his phone in his room. Texts he needs to respond to? Nope. He doesn’t know anything about that. Can’t respond to something you never see in the first place.

Terrible logic, even by his standards, but he can’t handle that right now. Even if it just adds another weight to the growing pile of guilt on his shoulders.

But with his sister keeping a commentary going as they shop, which Casey can’t resist chiming in on, he manages to keep most of his own thoughts at bay. Bless her shaggy head, his little sister knows how to get him moving even after the worst nights, and keep him distracted for as long as it takes for them to fill out the chores checklist.

By the time its late afternoon, drifting into early evening, Casey has managed to stop thinking about his guilt and personal shame entirely. Out of sight, out of mind- that phrase works even better with his family to keep his attention. Casey is preoccupied late into the night by his dad and sister; all of them enjoying one of the few nights a week they’re all home to sit down for a dinner.

Except halfway through the meal, his dad glances at the clock and says, “Casey, aren’t you and your friends usually meeting up by now?”

Casey stills, his forkful of mixed vegetables halfway into his mouth. He bites off the vegetables and mumbles out, “Nah, not tonight. Felt like having a break from… stuff.”

“Aw, shit,” his sister mutters. “Now I gotta share the TV.”

“Don’t say shit,” their dad scolds.

“You just did, and I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter; a nice young lady shouldn’t say that word.”

“That’s sexist.”

“Wh- no, I just meant-”

“Do you want to help oppress women in our society, dad? Next you’ll be saying I should be a housewife and give up on Harvard-”

“Kiddo, please, stop it. Casey isn’t allowed to say shit, either-”

Casey tunes out his little sister running circles around their dad with her recent social justice phase. He returns to finishing his meal, oddly quiet in a way even he notices. Thankfully, his family doesn’t ask him to explain anything; probably assuming it’s another ‘rough patch’ Casey claimed sometimes, when the brothers had family drama going down, and that he just didn’t want to get involved this time.

Well, it’s a little off the mark, but Casey supposes there is a bit of drama going on. Or will be, if what happened with him and Donnie gets out.

Casey puts down his fork at that thought. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel all that hungry.

He doesn’t finish his whole meal, dissuaded by squirmy anxieties, and can feel it getting harder to stave off the weight of what’s happened.

He procrastinates going to bed long as he can. Watching a movie with his family, and then another on his own, and then even goes so far as to go do their dishes and wipe down the kitchen counters. He has to give in, though, around two in the morning.

The guilt of running away from the sudden confrontation- of leaving Donnie hanging like that, and then ignoring his phone for the entire day- sinks down on Casey’s shoulders, and then into his chest. It’s heavy, and awful, and he feels like an even worse coward than last night.

He still doesn’t know how to approach it. Doesn’t know how to handle a situation with so many terrible outcomes.

So Casey takes some melatonin tablets, and goes to bed instead of continuing to imagine worse and worse scenarios. He hopes that the sleep aid will keep him under, even though on a weekend these are his roaming hours still.

It doesn’t work, but not for the reason he might have imagined. It’s not restless thoughts that wake him, but something else disturbing his sleep.

Casey sleeps light, even with the melatonin in his system, given the lifestyle he’d started keeping the past few years. He rubs his face as he sits up, overtired and a little annoyed that he’s woken up. There’s no reason he should have; anyone out there on the streets even close to being a threat doesn’t know where he lives, and Casey usually can differentiate between legitimate danger and his apartment neighbors being noisy.

And then he spots something on his windowsill, which is open and letting in a draft of cool night air.

Casey slowly gets out of bed and shuffles over, already knows what it is. He gingerly peers out the window. Like he expected, no one is there to take ownership of the delivery. Not that he needs to see the person to know who it is.

Folded up neatly, and _washed_ from the look of it, Donnie has left Casey’s hoodie on his windowsill without even a note.

It feels like an apology. An apology for everything.

And Casey feels like garbage for not being able to reply to it.

He picks up the folded hoodie, and brings it close to himself. His phone on his side table remains untouched as he slumps against the wall near his bed, rubbing his face again and feeling a different kind of miserable tiredness than before.

Casey doesn’t shut the window. He can’t, because it would feel like a rejection, and he won’t even try to force himself to do that.

 

 

 

On Monday, he sees April in the hallway. His friend leaning against the locker with Casey’s books in it, and definitely searching the milling crowd for him.

He hasn’t responded since yesterday, when he sent out a mass text that he’s sick and taking some time off from the nightlife. Which is bullshit, and everyone probably knows it. The last time Casey had a cold bad enough he’d run a fever, he’d still at least _tried_ to get out on the streets.

His friends had shoved him into a bed in the lair, and practically sat on him the whole night. Part of the enforced bedrest treatment had been Donnie, listing off a seemingly endless amount of illnesses ranging in severe to fatal that could stem from a cold.

Casey had been hazy and pissed off, but weak enough in a number of ways to just lie there and listen. Letting his mutant friend put a cold washcloth on his forehead and April tut at him when she replaced it.

April’s eyes find him in the crowd, all the way down the hallway, and she can’t seem to pick annoyance or concern with her expression. Casey swallows thickly, and turns tail.

Hard though it might be to avoid an intent kunoichi, Casey manages it. And feels infinitely terrible for that.

 

 

 

April doesn’t know exactly _what_ is going on, but she knows its happening. And it’s pissing her off.

 _I’m sick_ , Casey claimed. Sure. Like any of them are going to believe that. Especially since Donnie used the exact same excuse about half a day before Casey did.

April is not impressed with her friends. At all. Clearly, something happened between them when they wandered off from movie night, and whatever that was, it wasn’t good.

April wants to help. She wants to see them reconcile whatever’s upset them, and stop being antisocial jerks. But Casey keeps evading her all through the school day, and skips out before the final period. April doesn’t figure that last part out until it’s after school, and she gets fed up with waiting and finds a quiet corner to zone out with her empathic powers.

She extends herself through the minds still occupying her school- skimming over their auras and emotions without really taking them in- and finds no sign of Casey anywhere. She switches what strain of her powers she’s using, stretching a different metaphorical muscle, and grasps traces of him having left over an hour ago.

April recedes back into herself, and groans in frustration. Years of ninjutsu training and Casey can still avoid her like this? It’s ridiculous, and kind of hurtful.

She can’t remember Casey shutting her out like this before. Donnie, at points when things were rough for him, or her, or between them- but never Casey. Casey is brutally honest about everything going on with him, nine times out of ten. It just figures this is the one in ten times that he isn’t.

April is going to give him another day to come to her about it on his own. And if he doesn’t, she’ll march up to him and aggressively care for him until he relents.

She hates seeing her friends like this, hates it when they fight. They haven’t fought in _months,_ not like this. Not to the point of stony silence and total isolation, with April standing on the sidelines and feeling sick in her gut about two people she cares so, so deeply about, fighting with each other.

They’d stopped doing that kind of thing. The fighting and sniping became just a part of how her boys interacted, watered down to harmless play barbs. Suddenly going back to how it used to be, with her caught between them like this…

It feels awful, and April hates it.

She’s going to kick both their asses if they don’t sort out whatever this is.

Casey’s escaped her for now- and still hasn’t answered any of the texts she’s sent to him, damn- but April still has the option of going to confront Donnie directly. She’ll be nice about it, sensitive in case this is a genuinely a serious fight, but it’ll be a confrontation nonetheless.

She probably was going to drop by regardless, to get in some stress relief sparring. Nothing worked out frustrations with school and life in general like having a mutual beat down with a good friend. It tended to be Raph or Donnie she sparred with, and sometimes Leo, too. Mikey less so, since his mood for roughhousing and spars came and went erratically.

If Donnie wouldn’t talk to her over text or phone calls, then maybe April could draw things out of him during training. Or at least get him to loosen up enough to speak with Casey again. Either would be fine by her.

April waits patiently for the end of the day, letting things move into early evening before heading underground. There’s no specific time Donnie will be awake or asleep, but the evening hours are usually a good bet even with his fluid schedule. If anything, he’ll drag himself out to eat whatever breakfast food is available, and then head right back to bed or his lab.

Bless that Mikey, however random his choice of activities tend to be each night, keeps at least a steady record of preparing food at the beginning of the evening. Even if there’s nothing even resembling a routine the rest of the night, Mikey’s breakfast is a staple in things.

He sometimes makes things none of them particularly _want_ to eat, but that doesn’t put them off actually doing so. Five ravenous teenagers do not get picky with food choices, not if they’ve got training, and patrol, and enemies to potentially faceoff with…

Not that they generally have to do those things anymore, what with peace finally reigning for the most part in New York. But it’s just something they do as a team, and April hasn’t said _no_ to extra energy sources in a good couple years now.

As expected, Mikey is sleepily preparing something with ingredients from the ancient fridge when she arrives. April counts spinach, eggs, artichokes, anchovies… and stops looking at the ingredients after she spots mayo and relish. Whatever Mikey is making, it’ll probably taste way better than it’ll look, and April will get it down easier if she doesn’t know the details.

“Evening,” April greets, and gets a lazy wave from her friend as he yawns. “Is Donnie around?”

“Mmm… kinda,” Mikey mumbles, turning on the stove and setting a frypan on it. He yawns again. “He hit a weird swing again. Dunno what’s goin’ on, but he’s been really… _eh,_ the last few days. Since Casey and him disappeared from movie night, actually…”

April sighs, disappointed Mikey doesn’t know much more than she does. But at least she’s not the only one picking up that something went down. Mikey sets out a few cutting boards while he says, “You here to ask ‘im something about that? Because that’d make getting him to eat, and like, actually _sleep_ and socialize a lot easier, if you could get things to smooth over again.”

“I’m kinda here for that,” April says casually, shrugging. “I’m also here because I wanted to get a workout. Who do you think is willing tonight?”

“Raph, duh. Maybe Leo. Kick ‘em in the shins for me, will ya? One of them ate the last of the jello and won’t fess up. Assholes.”

“Will do. Is Donnie in his bed or his lab?”

“Which do you think?”

“If I’m hopeful, his bed.”

“Your hopes are let down, then.”

April smiles wryly, and bids her friend goodbye. Mikey is too busy whisking eggs to do more than hum at her departure.

As April crosses the lair to the lab doors, she starts to feel an aura of emotion stronger than any of the others she’s encountered today. Other than the brief flashes of Casey’s, which were so strongly negative it cut through the myriad of normal ones in their school; even with April passively keeping her mental shields in place to block all that traffic out of her mind.

She could sense Casey’s emotions probably because of how often she’s around him, and… because of how much she cares about him. It’s always easiest to get a read on someone she has close connections with, especially… in the way April has with him.

And, with Donnie. Who is projecting quite strongly even through the door and her shields. April knocks on the door of the lab, waits a moment to see if Donnie will open or not- he might not hear- and is pleasantly surprised when the big door slides open.

Donnie looks, unfortunately, like he always does on less than healthy amounts of sleep. He blinks at her like he’s not certain April is really present, and April sees bloodshot vessels around his red irises. It makes her heart twist in concern, because this seems more and more like a serious fight between him and Casey.

“April,” Donnie says belatedly, like he’s catching up with himself. “What, um. What brings you here?”

April crosses her arms, relaxing her stance. She tries for a friendly smile. “I wanted to check in with you, before I dragged anyone else into the dojo for a spar. You feeling up to it tonight?”

Usually, if he’s busy with a project or just not feeling like training, her friend would politely decline with a truthful explanation. Instead this time Donnie averts his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not tonight,” he says. “Sorry, I- I’m a little too tired today, got, um. Stuff to work on. Can you take a rain check?”

“Stuff?” April asks incredulously.

“Uh, yeah, coding stuff,” Donnie excuses, and April’s sixth sense shivers as a fresh wave of miserable emotions fill the air between them. He still won’t meet her eyes as they talk. “I’m gonna be at it for the rest of the night, probably, and I need to concentrate. Could you tell my brothers I don’t want anyone to interrupt?”

“Oh, sure,” April says automatically, feeling wrong footed by how Donnie is shutting her out. “But hey, you don’t look too good, and I haven’t really heard from you lately. Are you feeling-?”

“I’m fine,” Donnie answers, almost curtly. The quick response is a little harsh, and he winces. April feels a little stung.

He doesn’t seem fine. Not to April’s powers, and not to her own two eyes. He still backs up, sliding the door of his lab shut again.

“Sorry, I really need to get to work,” he says, the door nearly shut again. “I’ll talk later, okay, April? Have a good spar.”

And he shuts the door in her face before she can say anything. April stands there, concerned and a little outraged. Just a tad. Just a smidgen.

She’s tempted to just open the door and march in again, but hears the lock bolted from the other side. April grits her teeth, turns on her heel, and goes off to find someone willing to let her hit them.

“ _You,”_ April all but snaps when she happens across Raph, who hasn’t even tied his mask in place and is just coming out of his room.

“Me?” Raph says in mild confusion, sleepy still.

April points behind herself, back towards the dojo. “Find your sais. I need stress relief.”

“Oh,” Raph says. He considers that for a moment, and then nods. “Sure, okay. Can I eat first?”

“Only if you’re fast.”

He gives her a bemused and tolerating look, but ambles along with her regardless of April’s snappish mood. His omelette-hashbrown thing is eaten within a reasonably quick few minutes, though it feels like an eternity while April dresses in sweats and a sports bra and then warms up. Raph thankfully only warms up a short while before he feels like getting things started, and everything gets a really simple after that.

April _likes_ fighting. Likes the adrenaline, likes the rush. She’s better about keeping the impulse to throw herself at opponents in check than, say, Casey and Raph, but in all honesty… she’s just as rowdy as they can be.

Her frustration with Casey and Donnie shrinks to the back of her mind while she spars with Raph, and it’s a relief for a while to have nothing drawing her focus except parrying, slashing, and taunting her red masked friend.

 

 

 

Of course, all that frustration comes rushing back the next day, when she finally corners Casey at school and he acts like nothing is wrong.  Denies it, distracts from it, and ultimately refuses to talk about anything involving his and Donnie’s obvious ongoing fight. And then he disappears again, and doesn’t show his face anywhere besides their shared classes. Vanishing again directly after each, and being utterly stubborn about avoiding April.

Donnie is no better, seeing as he goes radio silent over text, and remains a cryptid in his own home when April comes over. His brothers all give her helpless shrugs about the whole thing, and she once again seriously considers just breaking into his lab.

April has to take several deep breaths, remind herself these are two people she cares a whole lot about- to inappropriate levels, really, given that their balance only works because she treats them as _friends_ and nothing more- and in the end drags Mikey by the back of his shell to spar with her in the dojo.

With Mikey’s unpredictable style, combined with his running commentary on everything they do, it’s enough to drown out the impulse to trap Donnie and Casey in the same room until they work out their differences. Again.

April doesn’t want things to go back to how they were. She _loves_ spending time with them both, having them be friendly and open and _close_ with each other, grown out of the ridiculous rivalry they used to have. Listening to them bicker and snipe is annoying and hurtful, and watching them refuse to be in the same room together, refuse to communicate _at all,_ feels even worse.

Donnie, every time she manages to get near him, radiates a kind of pain she hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s not as bad as the last, not as bad as when the brothers lost their father and were first coping with that, but the vibe is somewhere about the same. It feels like finality, like _hopelessness._

And Casey is feeling something close to that, too, and April is so tired of experiencing all their hurt right alongside them, yet remaining shut out of the equation. It pisses her right off. April is so angry and worried and just knotted up inside- that she has to pull Leo from his meditation, and shove his swords into his hands.

“Keep going until one or both of us collapse,” April says, drawing her own sword and sinking into a crouch, readying to spring forwards.

“Uh, really? Do we have to?” Leo asks, looking a little unnerved by her intensity. “I mean, I was sort of planning to keep it light tonight- rest day, you know? It’s a lot healthier than constant- _oh okay we’re starting I guess-”_

He blocks her slashes at him, and thankfully doesn’t try to persuade her out of the brutal exercise again after that.

April ends up sweaty and achy by the end of the night, having gone through two intense spars without a breath between, and only feels a little less like her stomach is full of Gordian knots of worry.

The fact that _both_ her friends avoid her for the rest of the week does nothing to help, and April spends a lot of time in the dojo because of that. It’s after the point that she can’t take feeling their second-hand misery anymore that she decides to just confront one of them. No more giving them space to figure things out- just explanations. She’s tired of letting them stew, and she wants this over with and solved so they can all be friends again.

She misses them both so much, and it’s only been a short few days. April’s grown so used to just… _having_ them. Not to herself, obviously, but with her nonetheless. She’s gotten used to their dynamic being without any of its old falters, and she’s gotten used to being able to watch them together, have them watch her in turn…

And it’s lonely, suddenly being without that again. Even if it’s for partially selfish reasons, she wants them to come back together again. Be a trio of friends that have dozens of shared experiences that bind them together, make their friendship _strong,_ and only fight about the smallest things that ultimately mean nothing. She wants that back so everyone will stop hurting and hiding, and they’ll all go back to normal again. That’s why she’s going to confront Casey, first- who _doesn’t_ have a thick locked door between them- and then Donnie. Until everything is fixed again.

That, and because even Raph refuses to let her keep working out her frustrations in sparring. Traitor and hypocrite in one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good morning everyone, here's some more drama and feelings.

After a close to a full week after _that night,_ Casey is about ready to explode.

He’s got way too many thoughts piling up in him, and the guilt of hiding from them is getting to him in a serious way. Even his family is noticing now that something is wrong, and is pressuring him gently to spill about it.

Yeah, no. Not happening. It’s less the part about it being a male friend, and more the part about Donnie being a _mutant_ male friend, and… the whole liking April, too, thing. Casey’s family wouldn’t have a problem with him being gay, or bi, or whatever. But Donnie isn’t human, and April’s all mixed into things for additional confusion, and Casey literally has no one to talk the whole disaster out with.

He can’t talk to Donnie’s literal brothers about it- even his best friend, Raph, who made it clear from the start that he was team Donnie in the rivalry over April- and Casey isn’t close enough with any of the other local mutant allies for this kind of thing. He’s on his own with this, and he’s always been shit at thinking anything through too deeply.

So he goes where he always does, when things get overly complicated and he just wants easy normalcy. His local rink.

Its big, its empty at night, and its owners known him well enough they’ll leave him to his own devices on the ice. Casey sets himself up, methodically putting on gear and carrying out a bag of pucks to play with. Stepping out onto the ice is a welcome sensation, because even if the world ends another dozen times more and things get even _worse_ with his friend situation, he’ll always have this.

The easy joy of gliding over smooth frozen ground, crisp filtered air in his lungs and nothing to do but _skate._ These were things that really helped him keep going, through all the insane adventures he and his friends experienced. Just nice things Casey could rely on to be good, even when everything else went to crap.

Sucks that even with the comfort of the rink and his favorite hobby, Casey is still followed by his mistakes and problems, and it makes him skate faster and harder than is typical of him.

Eventually, April finds him there; slapping pucks into an unguarded net with way less accuracy than he’s usually got. Casey doesn’t acknowledge her at first, feeling guilty and frustrated and at a loss. There’s her and there’s Donnie and there’s the both of them, and there’s the three of them in a balance they struggled to establish. Now Casey’s gone and screwed up that balance, and where does that leave them?

But he’s tired of running, tired of letting the guilt choke him- and besides, if he tried escaping _now_ , April would be on him in seconds. He’s in no position to make a break for it, so he puts off actually going to face April.

The fifth time in a row he misses the net by at least two feet, Casey gives up and lets out a wordless exclamation of anger. He tosses his stick away and turns his back on the failed stress relief.

“You’re wound up today,” April comments dryly, watching him skate in a cool down lap. Casey grunts as he passes her, going for another short lap. She waits until he’s passing again, and says, “Haven’t seen you much lately, or heard from you, or anything really. You finally feel like telling me what’s bothering you so much you turned into a ghost?”

Casey slows, catching himself on the wall of the rink. There’s half a pace of space between himself and where April is standing, but it doesn’t feel like enough distance. Because-

“I’m an empath, Casey. Don’t try to pretend something isn’t bothering you; I can literally feel it.”

-of the psychic thing. Yeah.

Casey sighs, putting his head on his arms. He hears April move closer, coming to lean on the wall next to him, their elbows brushing. It makes Casey feel a little cornered, but he doesn’t move away, because as guilty as he feels about the whole thing, he still definitely, definitely wants to be near her.

When he doesn’t speak first, April continues talking. “Donnie’s been off, too,” she says, too casual to hide that she’s worrying about them, “and I’ve seen about as much of him as I do you… so could you just tell me straight up, now? Was there or wasn’t there a fight, last Saturday, between the two of you?”

Casey keeps his head down, so he can avoid actually having to look April in the eyes. “Kinda, I guess,” he mumbles. If by very nearly making out with the mutant counts as fighting, then sure. They had a fight.

“I thought you two sorted that stuff out months ago.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too…” Casey sighs loudly, feeling ill at the idea of things going back to that. But if they’re at odds again… “’s just like old times, huh?”

April rests a hand on his shoulder, and Casey turns his head finally to look at her. Clearly, she doesn’t know anything about what happened (or almost happened) between him and Donnie, because she looks concerned instead of hurt.

“It can’t be _exactly_ like old times, not if you’re here moping around,” April comforts. When Casey just grimaces, she squeezes his shoulder gently. “Do you want to talk about it? Raph told me you won’t with him, and… having an outside opinion helps, I promise.”

Casey’s gut curdles at the thought of telling April, to her face, right here and now, that he nearly ended up kissing the guy that’s liked her for years, whatever that might mean.

“Dunno about that,” Casey says. “This ones… kinda not…” _something you’ll want to hear. “…_ easy to talk about.”

“Translation: not something easy to talk about with _me,”_ April says, hitting the head on the nail. Casey groans, hiding his face again. She takes her hand from his shoulder, and Casey misses the weight of it.

“Look, if it’s that personal between you guys, then fine. Don’t talk to me about it. But at least talk to _Donnie_ about it, okay? He’s… I don’t know what you’re fighting about, but he’s really upset. I couldn’t get him to stay outside his lab long enough to say _hi_ last time I was there.”

And now Casey feels like even worse shit. Great.

“God…” he says quietly. “I really fucked up with this one, Red. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

April hand returns to his shoulder, and Casey feels the desire to lean into it, into April in general.

“Then maybe it’s time you got some help figuring that out,” she offers gently, and because it’s her, and she’s one of his best friends, and god knows he loves her at least like that, Casey… relents.

“I…” Casey can’t look at her, can’t admit this while he’s staring right into her eyes. He raises his head so he doesn’t mumble, but still can’t turn to look at April. “We… we were workin’ on the new car, and it was normal stuff, just talking, and…”

He stops, unable to continue. The event he’s trying to explain- it’ll change _everything_ about how the three of them are. It’ll probably wreck their friendship; either that April draws away from both of them, maybe for _good,_ or this is it. This is when things finally break under all the strain, and they lose each other.

Casey doesn’t want to lose April, or Donnie, if he has any remaining claim to being their friend.

“You know what? Never mind, it’s just a stupid fight,” Casey says quickly, forcing a tight laugh. He glances at April, giving a hopefully reassuring smile. “’s just a spat, we’ll sort it out later, you don’t have to worry-”

“But I _am_ worried,” April interrupts fiercely, scowling at him. “I’m an _empath;_ I can _feel_ just how badly you two are hurting about something. It _wasn’t_ ‘just a stupid fight’, if Donnie’s feeling like- like there’s no hope! Or _you,_ you don’t exactly feel alright, either!” She grips his arm, hard. “Do _not_ lie to me, Casey Jones. I try to be polite about minding my own headspace, but it’s a little hard when you two keep _broadcasting_ your misery!”

Casey winces, guilty all over again and a little sheepish for thinking he could get anything past April. To his relief, she loosens her grip on him and softens her tone.

“I haven’t felt either of you feel this upset in a long, long time,” she says, almost gentle if it weren’t for her exasperation. “I’m your friend, aren’t I? You can talk to me… and I’m going to worry about this, whether you tell me what’s going on or not. It’s part of my job, keeping you out of trouble.”

Casey scoffs, feeling properly chastised and for some reason smiling about it. “Like you’re any better. You’re just as impulsive as any of us.”

April sniffs haughtily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Casey chuckles, momentarily feeling his mood lighten at the familiar banter. God _damn_ did he miss her, missed talking about stupid shit and hearing her tell him off. It only took most of a week to make him miss April this bad, Casey doesn’t know what he’d do if it was for good.

But… April is right about a few things. Whether he tells her or not, she’s going to worry, and… there’s Donnie. Donnie, who is thinking god knows what about Casey right now, beyond just that he’s a coward- and his friend doesn’t deserve to be left hanging like that. Even if Casey didn’t feel how he did about both of them, he wouldn’t want to do that to someone he considers such a close friend. Drawing in a deep breath, Casey speaks.

“April, what went down is…” Casey swallows, for the first time a in a good while scared right down to his core. He has to look away from April’s gently reddened cheeks, flush from the cold of the rink.

“Donnie, or me, or… somebody, got too close and… we almost ended up kissing.”

Casey waits for a reaction, but the silence draws out, and he can’t take it any longer after a dozen seconds have elapsed and looks at April.

April isn’t looking at him, but instead at the ice. And like Casey was scared there would be, there’s… something akin to hurt in her expression.

“Oh,” she says softly. “That’s… not what I was expecting.” She looks back to him, giving something that’s trying to be a smile, and not succeeding. “So… you two like each other like that?”

Casey wants to deny, or confirm, or _something,_ but he only manages to roughly say, “I don’t know, honestly. Shit’s really confusing. I… don’t know for sure what Donnie thinks about. That.” April nods vaguely, and whether it’s conscious or not, her hand starts to slip from Casey’s shoulder again.

He grabs it in a rush, clutching her wrist tightly in his hockey glove. She gives him a semi-startled look, and Casey blurts, “But I lo- like you, too! That’s- that’s why this is such a mess, okay? ‘cause there’s you, but there’s him, and I’m just. I’m just fucking it up, I’m sorry. I…”

April is still staring at him, and Casey swallows thickly. At the beginning it was an open fact, a clear invitation of interest on his part towards her. But then April hadn’t ever said yes or no, and his rivalry with Donnie turned into friendship, which then got muddled to hell and back, and then… he just stopped trying with April, because he wasn’t sure what he even wanted anymore.

“Sorry,” he says, loosening his grip on her wrist. His cheeks flush with shame. “Sorry, I’m just… I don’t even know anymore, about anything. I fucked up with Donnie, and that fucked up everything for all of us, and… I’m sorry, April.” Casey ducks his head, upset with himself to say the least and unable to look into April’s eyes any longer. “I really tried to not do that, I swear. I didn’t want stuff to… change, between us all. The thing, with Donnie, it just happened, heat of the moment, and I don’t even know if he meant anything by-”

April abruptly reverses their grips, and tugs him forwards. Casey barely has time to process what’s happening before she’s right in his face, breath on his lips and bright blue eyes pinning his brown ones.

“Like this?” she whispers, hovering just before their skin touches. “It happened in the heat of the moment, like this?”

Casey can’t breathe, and he’s not even sure if this is real.

“Something like this, yeah,” he whispers back, disbelieving. “What’re you…?”

“Doing something I should’ve a long time ago,” April says, and Casey is frozen as she leans the rest of the way in to kiss him.

There’s a brief moment where his brain just- doesn’t work. April’s lips are on his, and moving ever so slightly, and even though they’re nearly adults and he’s fantasized about this for years, Casey’s thoughts short circuit and he stalls just when it matters.

Then, because he’s wanted this forever, and it just feels _natural,_ he kisses her back. Alone in an empty rink together, the cool air contrasting with the warmth of April’s sigh into his mouth, Casey finally gets to kiss the girl he’s been stupid over for years.

April finally draws away, breaking the kiss and releasing Casey’s arm. Casey’s face feels like its on fire, and he’s pretty sure the smile he’s wearing is as far from cool as possible. Not that he really cares. April’s long since seen him at his worst; him grinning at her like an idiot is nothing.

“…wow,” Casey breathes, still grinning stupidly. “Okay, that was. Wow.”

April’s cheeks darken further, and she giggles under her breath. “Very articulate, Casey. But… yeah, um. Wow is one way of putting it.”

Casey wants to lean in again, keep kissing her until neither of them can breathe and then longer, but his smile slips a little when he remembers what preceded this. “But… what about… Donnie?” he asks, and tries not to imagine the look their friend might wear if he saw them.

Once, Casey might have crowed in triumph and laughed in Donnie’s face, for winning April and beating the mutant. Now, Casey is old enough to understand no one can ‘win’ April, and the idea of watching that pain bloom in his friend is equally painful to Casey.

April purses her lips, crossing her arms to hug herself. A beat, and then she says, “I like him, too,” in a soft voice. She continues, just as soft, “I have… probably since the first few months we knew each other.”

Casey nods, not terribly surprised. By the time he’d come into things, Donnie and April had been through a lot of crazy stuff together already. They’d had something Casey didn’t, and he can recognize now that that was part of why he resented Donnie so much at first. He’d been jealous of their relationship, even just as friends.

“But I like you a lot, too, Casey,” April adds, giving him a small smile. “I mean… a lot. I care a lot about both of you, and that’s… honestly why I never said yes or no to either of you guys. I didn’t…”

“…want anyone to get hurt,” Casey finishes for her. April nods sadly, sighing. Casey rallies a little, a squirmy, weird hope rising in him. “But if you like both of us, and I… like Donnie…” It’s strange to say it out loud. He’s never even admitted it to himself before in proper words. “Then… maybe…?”

“Does he feel the same way?” April asks quietly, reaching out to Casey again. Casey pulls off one of his gloves, taking her small, well calloused hand into his.

“Dunno,” Casey says, and can barely stand the hope growing inside his chest. “But if he does… maybe we could figure something out? All three of us?”

April’s other hand closes around his, cradling it as she moves closer once again. Her bangs fall in her face as she leans towards him, a scared, but painfully hopeful look in her eyes.

“I want to,” she says in a hush. “I really want to. I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Casey rests his forehead against hers, replying, “And I’m pretty sure neither of us want to lose you, either.”

“Will you talk to him?”

“I… I don’t know if he’d want me to. I… kinda ran off on him. It’ll be… really awkward.”

“…then I will.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve needed to, for a long time. Longer than I needed to with you.”

“I think he’ll appreciate that.”

The last words Casey says come out in whisper, just in front of April’s lips, and then she’s stealing his air all over again.

 

 

 

April has been and become a number of things. She’s been a normal high school girl, she’s been the prisoner of an alien race, she’s been a ninja in training, she’s been a _living weapon_ designed to warp the earth, she’s been someone lost as to just who she really is, she’s been someone trying to hold her found family together by sheer force of will through trial and tragedy-

And she’s been again a normal girl, choked up with feelings she never had time or heart to act on. A part of her is still that normal girl, foresight clouded by affections for two very important people in her life.

April, a scant few years ago, wished to just find a way to get rid of the feelings all together. To get rid of Donnie’s, too, and then Casey’s as well… because where in all the drama of their lives were they going to have time for those things?

And how could she choose a single person’s heart to break? April might have learned to thread steel through her thoughts and body, learned when there is room for kindness and when there is room for only violence, but she wasn’t and still isn’t strong or cruel enough to just shatter a friendship like that. Not ones as close and dear as Donnie and Casey’s are to her.

So she stayed quiet, shoved down her emotions, and tried to let things be. Maintain a perfect balance between the three of them and never address the elephant in the room, however long the years dragged on.

It figured that her boys found a way to break their delicate balance, and send them all toppling over the edge.

Hearing those things from Casey… about him, about Donnie, about what they might have grown to have without anyone noticing… at first April had hurt. She wouldn’t have to choose if that were the case, but… she also would have to give up hope for anything with either of them.

And then Casey grabbed her hand, and reeled her back in.

She’d given him cheek kisses before, had given them to Donnie as well- but kissing him on the mouth was different. It meant something, plain and clear, and when she drew away, the naked and honest affection in Casey’s eyes sent April’s heart soaring.

Even years after he’d made it clear he was interested, Casey remained that way. He’d grown, and matured, but he stayed the same in terms of sincerity. When Casey Jones told you how he felt about someone, it was the truth and nothing else.

God only knew what April did to deserve that loyal care, but she refused to miss her chance to keep it.

She could only hope Donnie was still the same in that sense; that he still held the same awkward but utterly true care he had for April when they were younger.

April still feels light like air a few hours later, having to check if she’s not accidentally levitating herself as she walks. For the first time, she’s hopeful that this won’t all end in broken pieces. That she won’t have to watch one, or _both_ of them darken with disappointment and rejection.

It’s absurd, the solution. It’s insane, even by their standards. It’s something April only dreamed of having, back when Casey first really made Donnie laugh, right in front of her, and her heart swelled at the sight of them coming to care about each other like she cared for them.

But not like she imagined, though. She’d thought about close friendship, something like she had with Raph- not the situation Casey had described, cheeks flushed and a regretfully wanting look in his eyes.

April never imagined she could be this lucky, this hopeful for the future.

As she enters the lair, it’s Mikey that’s hanging out in the main room tonight, the sound of his phone’s games filling the air. He looks up as she pushes through the turnstiles.

“Hey, April,” he says, twisting around on the couch to look at her better. “You here for more sparring, or like… to maybe possibly fix Donnie…?”

April gives him a wry smile. “The latter,” she says, and Mikey sighs loudly in relief.

“Thank _god,_ none of us have been able to get him to saying _anything_ ‘bout whatever’s bothering him. You wouldn’t happen to have finally gotten it out of him -?”

“It’s private, Mikey,” April says, and he grumbles. “Ask him again later; see if he feels like talking about it after I’m done with him.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Mikey says, waving her towards the lab doors. “Just get him out of his funk already; we’re starting to really worry about how little he’s sleeping.”

“I’ll do my best,” April promises, and prays this works.

Donnie is, as predicted, holed up in his lab. At least he’s not working on the exact same project as when April had last been in here, hunched over his keyboard and computers. Now he’s just… dejectedly hunched over a table with a disassembled rappelling backpack spread out in front of him.

April sighs. That’s not really much of an improvement.

He’s far from reality it seems, since he hasn’t broken concentration on his project yet to look and see who’s entered the room. April raps her knuckles against the metal door, and finally elicits a reaction after the fourth knock. Donnie turns, and startles slightly at her presence.

“O-oh, April, uh,” Donnie tries to turn on his stool, and knocks over a collection of tools as he does. He curses, and drops to the ground to gather them back up. April shuts the lab door behind her, sliding it into place until it clicks and then walking carefully across the room.

Donnie is still gathering his assortment of tiny tools when she comes around the corner of his table. He looks up at her, and even with his mask to hide the circles, April can see how bloodshot his eyes still are from lack of sleep and overall stress. Casey’s had been about the same, though not as prominent, since Donnie’s eyes are larger than a human’s.

“…hey, Donnie,” April says belatedly, and tries not to pick up on the acutely miserable feelings coming from her friend.

Donnie ducks his head again, finishing his task. “Hi. Did you… did you need something? Because otherwise I’m- not feeling well. I need a bit of time alone.”

“I’ve barely seen you all week,” April points out. “How much time do you need?”

“A lot more,” he says in a half mumble, probably not even meant to be heard. He stands, putting his tools down on the table and facing mostly away from her. “Look, you’re probably here to try and make me feel better, or talk about something, but I’m fine, honest. I just don’t feel up to people tonight, and I’m sorry, April, but not even you-”

“I talked to Casey,” April interrupts gently, and Donnie’s mouth audibly clicks shut. He’s stiff as she comes to stand nearer, and flinches away from her tentative hand. “Donnie…”

“So you know,” he says quietly, shoulders tense.

“I… know something almost happened between you,” April says, and she feels the backlash of sharp emotions from Donnie. He hangs his head, leaning on the table with both hands.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he says, not looking at her. “I- I know Casey wouldn’t have- not on purpose. He’s not- like that, and I-I know he definitely wouldn’t with me, and I…”

April tries to reach for him again, and Donnie brushes her off as he sits on his stool; head low like he’s waiting for reprimand.

“Donnie-” April tries to say.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, ignoring her. “It’s- it wasn’t right of me, and I shouldn’t’ve done that to him, or you- I mean, not that we’re, uh- not that there’s cause for me to abstain from doing that with anyone other than you t-two, since we’re not- like that, and I don’t exactly have suitors lining up at the door-”

 _“Donnie,”_ April stops him, putting her hands on his bowed shoulders. He tenses up, and April tries to smooth that away by moving her hands to his chin, tilting it upwards.

“…I’m not upset,” she says, firm but kind as she drops her hands again. “No one is upset, okay? Calm down, you’re working yourself up over nothing.”

Donnie’s expression hurts to look at, even worse because of the bitter laugh he lets out. “Nothing? This isn’t nothing. I doubt Casey will ever want to be in the same room with me again, or- or you either.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” April tells him.

“I know I screwed things up!” Donnie blurts, somewhat heated. “I _know_ it’s my fault, you can’t tell me that’s not what happened- you weren’t even _there_ -”

“ _No,_ I wasn’t, but I was there for when Casey told me about all this,” April says, and Donnie’s brief defensiveness crumples.

“…and what did he say?” Donnie asks, guilt and resignation and deep sadness all rolled up together in his voice. April steps closer to him, watching confusion and regret swirl in Donnie’s red eyes.

“He said… that you nearly kissed,” April tells him, and sees a wince go through Donnie. She continues, “And, that he was sorry it was only nearly.”

“…what?” Donnie asks in a whisper.

April takes his hands, which tremble slightly in her grip. She looks at Donnie, and sees again the person he was when they first met. Still loving too hard, too deeply, and never figuring out how to keep himself from getting hurt.

April has hurt him more than she ever wanted to, purposefully and accidentally. Her immaturity in dealing with his advances, her internal struggles leaking out to affect her relationships with him and Casey, the crystal… _Za’naron…_

And here he is, still looking at her with unshakable trust and care, even after all that. Even if he looks like he’s done something unforgivable, he’s not fighting her on anything.

One of the first things she realized about Donnie… was that his heart was too big for its own good. Compassion came like the easiest thing in the world to him, and April has that to thank him for. Because if he didn’t have that endless wealth of sympathy in him, she probably would have vanished into the back of a white van all those years ago and never been seen again.

He’s always been so easy to love, even when April lied to herself and fought it every step of the way, because right from the start… he loved her already.

Now, because it’s time, they’re grown and they’re aware of each other and they’re _ready,_ April stoops just enough to level with Donnie’s gaze. And smiles warmly.

“It’s not just you,” April says, hoping she’s not wrong. She squeezes his hands in hers, chest swelling with pent up feelings. “It’s both of us- _all_ of us.”

“What? No, that’s…” Donnie trails off, eyes widening and unable to find words. He remains silent as April closes the distance between them, stopping just short.

“I love you,” she says, and her heart twinges at the soft intake of breath from Donnie. “I should have said that ages ago, but I’ll do it now. I love you, Donnie. Really.”

Donnie blinks, eyes swimming with disbelief. “You- no, really-? You mean… it?” his voice is small as he finishes those few words, staring at her without comprehension.

“I mean it,” April says, her nose brushing his flat one. She feels him tense up again, a myriad of colorful emotions coming from him, and April can’t help but finally sink into something she denied them both for years.

It’s different from Casey, who has human lips and was burning with exertion at the time. Donnie has no slight stubble, no wide gap of missing teeth, and no heat of human temperature. He’s comparably cool feeling, with smooth scaly skin a few degrees lower than April.

It doesn’t bother her. It’s just… Donnie. Scales and all. And even before she’d found herself falling for him, she’d lost any discomfort with that within days of knowing him. Of seeing him smile and laugh and make bad choices like any other teenage.

He’s just Donnie, even if his lips are thin and his nose is flat. And April loves all those parts of him.

She’s never managed to say that, least of all to him. How right it feels now that she has.

They slowly break the chaste kiss, and April draws away enough to see Donnie’s face. He looks stricken, caught between intense emotions of guilt and something close to happiness.

“Why?” he asks, waveringly.

April wishes they’d figured this out long ago, before Donnie ever worked himself into such a state.

“Because I _love you,_ ” April repeats sincerely. “Because even if he won’t say it, me and Casey _both_ love you.”

Donnie’s eyes become glossy, and he seems at a loss for words. He blinks rapidly, pulling a hand out of April’s to wipe at his eyes. “Sorry, sorry, god- I just, I just wasn’t- I never would have expected-”

“Oh, Donnie,” April says, and release his hand to cup his cheeks. “Shh, shh- Donnie, it’s fine, it’s okay…”

Donnie breathes in slowly, shivering at the heat of her palms. His own large hands hover for a moment, and then find their place on April’s waist; tentatively touching, so light it’s like he’s asking _Are you sure?_

She senses his tangled emotions, as well as the overwhelming exhaustion he’s worked himself into. April brushes her thumbs along his temples, regretting she took so long to confront Casey about this.

To ease the aching hope of Donnie’s expression, April closes the distance again between them, and tries to undo years of unintentional heartbreak with a single kiss.

This time, he doesn’t freeze so badly, and April feels him bit by bit open to the kiss, becoming more receptive as he does. She feels his gap tooth as it deepens, just for a moment, before Donnie draws away ever so slightly so it’s shallow again.

She doesn’t push, letting Donnie choose the pace. She owes him that much, to move forwards however he feels comfortable.

Eventually, they come apart, and remain there for a long pause. Breathing a little unevenly, flushed in the face, and lips tingling.

Donnie looks like she’s given him the moon. April feels that if she could, then she would.

“…think you can talk with Casey, now?” she asks softly. After biting his lip, worrying it for a moment, Donnie nods slowly.

April smiles, warm inside and brightly, achingly hopeful for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you v much to everyone who's commented so far..... i can't reply to everyone but guys i promise i'm savoring every review i'm given. <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drops this on your breakfast plate* enjoy your saturday brunch fanfic equiv of a newspaper reading.

Donnie is still disbelieving any of this is happening.

He’s fairly certain he didn’t spend at least ten minutes straight making out with April. Because there’s no way something like that could’ve happened. And he’s doubly certain Casey doesn’t actually want to talk with him, given the way his friend has avoided him all week.

Except April made calls with her father, and then Casey- which Donnie didn’t listen to, purposefully tuning out so he didn’t _freak out_ \- and then pulled him from his lab without letting Donnie protest more than once.

“ _But- can’t we just- call him again or something-?”_

_“Are you really going to do that, Donnie?”_

Donnie had shut his mouth, because no, he would not have. Anxiety is coiling in his stomach still, restless and uncomfortable. The thought of talking to Casey over the phone makes him nauseas, and April had said this was a face to face kind of conversation anyway.

She’d told his brothers on the way out not to wait up, and Donnie hadn’t been able to look at any of the confused and interested expressions found there. All eyes in the room had been on his and April’s joined hands.

Donnie can’t bring himself to break that hold, even as they ascend to the surface. A part of him is scared the moment he does, this will all fade away like a dream and he’ll wake up in his room all alone.

They have to let go to scale the buildings around them, and Donnie doesn’t wake up alone. He’s still following April out into the night, watching her leap and weave gracefully across the roofs of New York. Her ponytail streams behind her as she jumps to each new foothold, and Donnie isn’t sure if he could stop following her path if he tried.

She kissed him. She loves him.

Donnie stumbles a little on one of his leaps, caught off guard by his own delirious thoughts. She _loves him,_ April said it herself right to his face and then _made out with him._

She said that Casey loves him, too.

Donnie doesn’t understand what’s happening anymore. How this isn’t a dream his mind cruelly created. But he prays it doesn’t stop happening, not yet.

They reach April’s home, dropping onto the fire escape and swinging down to reach her bedroom window with practiced ease. How many years has it been since Donnie first brought her back here, after rescuing April from the Kraang?

It seems ages ago, though he knows it was just a few years. Things have changed so much since then.

Like that instead of being shut out, curtains drawn on him and the strange nocturnal world he’s a part of, April’s window is wide open for him to enter, it’s resident beckoning him inside.

Donnie swallows, slipping in. It’s not the first time, definitely not, but it’s the first time in this context. He’s always just been a friend, and now… maybe he’s something more? He can only hope, because if he could be more to April, he’d offer her everything she’d take of him.

And to Casey… he’d give that too, if his friend even wanted anything of Donnie.

April leaves her shoes in her bedroom, and Donnie does the polite thing and leaves his bo staff. Mr. O’Neil is skittish at the best of times just seeing Donnie and his family, a firm reminder of what an alien and unnerving group of beings they are to normal people. Its better he makes himself as non-intimidating as possible.

He’s expecting to see Mr. O’Neil in the living room, or in the kitchen adjacent, but the older man is nowhere to be seen. Instead there’s only Casey.

Donnie freezes in the doorway, and irrationally regrets leaving himself unarmed. Casey stands from the couch, hands in loose fists at his sides; staring at Donnie as Donnie stares at him.

April, between them both, nods. “I asked my dad to give us the house for the night,” she informs them. “He’s staying with my aunt while we sort this all out. And on that topic, I’ll give you two some privacy while I go freshen up, okay?”

Donnie manages to squeak a little, because _please no not yet,_ but April just pats his shoulder as she goes back the way they came, shutting the door to her bedroom. Which leaves Donnie and Casey alone.

The bubbly warmth of kissing April and holding her hand and hearing _I love you_ be spoken aloud all abruptly vanishes from Donnie. He’s left cold and nervous, unsure how to start things.

He’ll start by apologizing, for trying to do something he had no real clue Casey wanted or not. Yeah, he can say sorry, and hope things go alright from there-

“I’m sorry.”

Those blurted words didn’t come from Donnie.

Donnie is blinking in confusion still as Casey continues, cheeks red and a frustrated look on his face. “I ran out on you because I panicked and got stupid, and it wasn’t cool of me to leave you hanging like that. You, uh. You really got me by surprise, but it didn’t make it okay I wussed out on actually talking to you all week. So, I’m sorry. Really.”

Casey fidgets as Donnie stays silent, looking more and more unsure of himself by the second. Donnie is stuck trying to process what’s happening still. This is. A lot.

“…isn’t that my line?” Donnie finally manages. “I’m, um. I’m the one who tried to. To kiss you without asking first.” Shame flushes through him again, for presuming and assuming and thinking for second _anyone-_

“That was literally the most elementary thing you could’ve done, Don,” Casey says, sounding exasperated. But not… with Donnie? Casey rubs the back of his neck, sighing. “There’s a ton worse things to do without someone’s permission first, never mind I kinda, uh. Sort of wan…ted you… to.”

Casey clears his throat, hardly able to look at Donnie straight on. Donnie’s face feels very hot right now, despite his cool blood.

“Oh,” Donnie says.

“Yeah,” Casey says. They stand there, the air feeling unfamiliarly charged.

They startle as both their phones go off, and thankful for the distraction, they both go to look at their messages.

 _For the love of god, just KISS HIM ALREADY,_ April has texted them both, having created a group chat for the three of them. Donnie looks up towards Casey the same time as he does, and they both crack up.

“I think that’s addressed to both of us,” Donnie says, a little giddy at the thought that the person who’d been kissing him just a short while earlier, is _encouraging_ him to kiss someone else.

“No, really?” Casey says, and as they both laugh again, Donnie finally feels brave enough to cross the room to him.

Whereas when they’d first met, Casey had had Donnie beat in the height department. But as they both came out the other end of puberty, Donnie had been pleased that he managed to sneak half an inch taller over his friend. Because of that half an inch, Casey’s brown eyes have to flick upwards to meet Donnie’s, and it sends a gentle thrill through him.

Casey licks his lips. Donnie finds himself looking very intently at the action, and swallowing.

“So, do we just…” Donnie says, starting to get nervous again.

“Well, I mean,” Casey clears his throat, “April _did_ say-”

“Right! She, um, she definitely did.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

They stand there for at least a full five seconds, no doing anything. Donnie wonders if the floor might swallow him up any time soon, save everyone from the awkwardness. Whatever had happened between them in the garage… maybe it wasn’t there anymore? But April had _said…_ and Casey hadn’t denied it…

“…oh my god, this is awful,” Casey says finally, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, no more words.”

 _“Please,”_ Donnie says gratefully. Maybe April will come back and make things go smoother if they stay quiet long enough.

“I suck at words.”

“Same.”

“Can we just pick up where we left off?”

Donnie’s heart freezes.

“Are you… sure?” he asks, voice coming out weaker than he wanted it to.

“Uh, yeah? If- if you are. If you want to,” Casey says quickly. “If you don’t that’s, uh- that’s cool, too-”

“No! I mean yes-” Donnie cuts himself off, wincing at his fumbling. He’s smarter than most people on earth, he should be able to _do this._ He forces the words to come out. “Yes, I’d. I’d like that? If you. Would.”

There’s very little space left between them, now. Donnie doesn’t know who moved, or if they both did, but he knows they’re on the edge of things. His hands feel shaky, and his insides are twisting into knots of nervousness. What if it doesn’t go well, what if he’s actually terrible at kissing and April was humoring him, what if Casey actually _does_ kiss him and then decides Donnie’s lips and scales feel too weird and says he doesn’t _want_ this anymore- doesn’t want _Donnie_ anymore-

With an unusual amount of care, Casey leans in close. There’s just a fraction of space left, a scant inch, and Donnie feels the warmth of Casey’s skin as they hold eye contact.

Donnie feels a little like he’s shaking on the inside, his heart trembling in his chest. It’s like the moment in the garage all over again, a little hazy on the edges and filled with tension. Donnie sees the tiny nicks in Casey’s face here and there, from sports and fights and god knows what, silvery thin and tantalizing to trace with his fingers, his lips-

-Donnie doesn’t know what Casey sees, looking ever so slightly upwards at him, if it’s good or bad, or- or something he _wants-_

-and then Donnie can’t hold back any longer, shoving aside every cautionary fear, and kisses Casey.

It’s not as clean as the one with April, it’s a little rushed and a lot more desperate feeling. But it’s just as chaste, because Donnie is _so new_ to this, to having someone who he’s allowed to want, allowed to touch, he’s terrified of doing something wrong and ruining the whole thing-

But evidently that caution isn’t shared on Casey’s end, who leans into the kiss without hesitancy. Donnie is vaguely aware of Casey’s hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Donnie follows in suit by tentatively putting his hands around Casey’s back. Casey is lean, muscles strung long and strong, very much unlike the compact power April carries. But no less intensely attractive, to Donnie, who really has only ever had these two people to gaze after and _want._

Donnie shivers as a sudden bloom of heat comes from inside him, a little overwhelmed by the touching. And Casey doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull back in the least, just keeps pushing forwards with the kiss and his warm hands and pulling Donnie downwards onto the couch.

Donnie breaks for air briefly, panting, and without waiting a second longer to ask permission, pulls Casey forwards into contact again. His friend doesn’t resist, though a small sound of surprise is muffled by Donnie’s mouth. Donnie moves a hand up to Casey’s head to hold him there, hold them close, and just- can’t _stop,_ he’s wanted this for so long, and Casey’s slightly chapped lips aren’t fighting him, in fact they’re _opening_. Casey’s tongue slipping out to meet Donnie’s just for a second, and then retreating again as they keep kissing.

Donnie _finally_ has the self-control to pull himself back, some immeasurable time later. As he does, he comes away blinking rapidly and panting in gasps. Much like how Casey does, whose hair is a near disaster. Donnie had dislodged Casey’s signature bandana at some point, and now it has hair sticking up from it all over. He’s staring at Donnie, wide eyed.

Donnie briefly has a flash of concern he went too far, overstepped brand new boundaries. Of course, instead-

“Okay, hell yes,” Casey breathes, grinning. “You really go all in, huh?”

Donnie’s face somehow gets hotter, and he says, “Sorry, sorry. I, um. I just got a little excited.”

“No kidding,” Casey says, laughing a little. He grins wider. “Can we do that again?”

Donnie really can’t deny him that, not when he himself desperately wants to.

It’s slower this time, now that the rush of nervous energy has dissipated. A little more care to the press of their lips. Donnie sinks a little deeper into the feeling with each pass, of warmth and excitement and a fulfilling sensation of… being wanted.

It feels… so good.

“You two are cute.”

Donnie makes an _“eep”_ sound into Casey’s mouth, and breaks away to look behind himself. April is standing at the end of the hall, looking at them with a fond expression. She’s changed out of her night activities jumpsuit and into comfy looking casual clothes, and Donnie thinks the soft yellow of her shirt looks very attractive on her.

“Hi, April,” Casey greets, waving at their friend. “You get any of this yet?”

“ _Casey,”_ Donnie sputters.

“I did,” April answers smoothly. Donnie covers his face, overwhelmed once more by what’s happening.

“Aw, he’s blushing.”

“Adorable.”

“I hate _both_ of you,” Donnie groans.

“Evidence says otherwise, Donnie,” April says gently, as though that helps Donnie feel any less flustered. He’s a ninja; he’s killed people for god’s sake. This shouldn’t be throwing him off so easily.

“He’s just embarrassed ‘cause you caught him getting into it,” Casey teases him. Donnie shoves his friend lightly, unable to even refute that statement. April just chuckles softly at them both.

Casey then scoots over and invades Donnie’s personal space again, pressing flush to his side and wrapping an arm around Donnie’s shell. Donnie hesitates for a split second, but Casey is warm, and Donnie’s thoughts are still quite addled from making out, and he ends up relaxing against the cushions and the human both.

April comes to sit on his opposite side, reminiscent of the night that set this all in motion. Except there’s no space left between any of them, and Donnie is only somewhat nervous about wrapping an arm around April’s shoulders. She settles against him without complaint, tucked into his hold like she’s always sat with him like this. On his opposite side, Casey drops his head onto Donnie’s shoulder, and it’s like the final piece to the puzzle slotting in place.

It is, without a doubt, the most surreal thing Donnie has ever experienced. And he has experienced a _lot_ of surreal things.

He lets the moment sit for as long as possible, just holding himself in place between the two people he’s wanted for years, and… existing in a bubble of peace. He’s aware there are plenty of things that could go wrong later on, but for now… he’s just taking it all in. And letting himself feel happiness.

“…now what?” Casey asks after a period of quiet. Unsurprising its him first, given his typical impatience.

“Well…” April hums, “we could do two things. We could talk out all the details of this, so no more nonsense miscommunications happen-”

“ _Boring,_ no.”

Donnie snickers, then louder as April elbows him. “Hey! I’m not the one who interrupted.”

“No, but I can’t reach him to smack his ear,” April says.

“Good thing, too. You hit hard,” Casey says. Donnie gets another elbow from April, which this time he passes on helpfully to the person who deserves it.

“ _Anyway,”_ April says, putting an end to the elbow fight before it can really pick up. “I was going to say next that what we could _also_ do… is be irresponsible, reckless young people and discuss nothing tonight.”

“And make out, right?” Casey adds. “Please. We gotta.”

“That was implied with the ‘reckless young people’ part.”

“ _Yes.”_

“Really?” Donnie asks before he can help himself. Both his human friends lean away enough to look at him, and Donnie tries to not shrink on himself. “Not saying I-I don’t want to. Just. Making sure.”

“…okay, _my_ turn to make sure,” April says. She looks at him seriously. “Donnie, do _you_ want to do that? Because if you don’t-”

“No! No, no I definitely do. I swear,” Donnie could kick himself, nearly messing up his chance at this.

“Oh. Alright, good. Because I… also definitely want to,” April says, flush creeping over her cheeks and a quirk to her lips. Donnie is struck by the memory of how they felt against his- god does he want to feel them again like that.

“Does this mean we go in the bedroom now? Or is this going to be a couch thing,” Casey questions, reminding Donnie that staring at people silently isn’t exactly appropriate.

April rolls her eyes, bemused smile on her face. “Bedroom, the couch is a little cramped, and it feels… exposed.”

“I do feel a little out in the open, personally speaking,” Donnie admits, seeing as he’s sitting in a well-lit room of a normal home. He’s painfully out of place here, and now that it’s been mentioned, he doesn’t feel quite comfortable out in the open like this, even with just Casey and April. After this long hiding in the shadows, he just feels safer in them.

Plus, maybe it’ll… be easier to keep this going, if his friends can’t see him properly.

Donnie quiets the reminder that they’ve seen him in broad daylight plenty times, and spent more than enough time to get familiar with how he looks. He still feels nervous anyways.

“Into the bedroom?” April says, standing up and taking Donnie’s arm.

“Into the bedroom,” he echoes, a little lightheaded. Casey follows them, and back down the hall they all go. April’s bedroom is open, and her room is lit gently by a desk lamp. Donnie is a little at a loss what to do now that he’s inside. April shuts the door behind them, and there’s a pause of tension.

“Sooo…” Casey starts, looking between them with a hopeful expression. “More make outs?”

April is blushing in the warm light of her room, and Donnie feels like his cheek scales are also quite dark.

“…depends on who wants to go first?” she offers in an only somewhat nervous voice. Donnie relaxes a tiny bit, seeing that he’s not the only one feeling cautious.

“Me, definitely me,” Casey volunteers, and oh what a surprise that is. Donnie just about rolls his eyes; if there is one thing he figured out about Casey over the years, it’s that his friend has zero inhibitions about making out with dangerous women.

Which was part of why Donnie had doubted this would ever be possible, but here he is, privy to watching Casey approach April and their lips come together. And all with the knowledge he’s allowed to be a part of it, any time he wants.

After a moment, Casey breaks the kiss. “Even better than last time,” he says, directed at April, and she stifles a laugh, blushing fiercely.

“Jeez, Jones.”

“Tellin’ the truth, gets better every time-”

“ _Casey,_ oh my god-”

Donnie is confused, if amused, by the conversation, and then clues in.

Ah, so they’ve already done this. They’ve both with him, so it’d make sense that they did with each other.

That doesn’t… bother him as much as he thought it might. If anything, it makes the pool of funny warmth in his stomach get larger. Maybe before all this, or a few years ago, he would have felt hurt or left out. Now though…

Watching Casey tug April’s ponytail out with nimble fingers, and she pull off his bandana, and the two of them slot together like two pieces made for one another is… satisfying, on a level. They’re both such willful and amazing people- both have tempers that get them into all sorts of trouble, both have stuck with Donnie and his family through thick and thin and been so, so good to all of them, to _Donnie…_

Donnie sits down slowly on the edge of the bed, watching April and Casey kiss. Her arms are around his neck, and his hands low on her waist, and April has to lean up on tiptoe to reach Casey’s lips. Donnie doesn’t catch the whispers Casey says to April, or what’s so funny she laughs quietly, but how they’ve both lit up like this, finally close like they would have been from the start, if it weren’t for Donnie’s presence between them…

It puts fuzzy, encompassing warmth in him, which climbs up his throat and chokes him a little. They fit together so well, always have, and seeing them like this only reaffirms that fact.

They’re so lovely, like this, or whenever, and Donnie is…

Not.

He’s alright with that, though. He’s okay with this, being allowed to witness their connection, and maybe have some of it for himself. Have a part of both of them, and not lose everything else for it.

They can have everything of him, if he can just keep a little of them.

“Mm, Casey, maybe we should- _Casey,_ c’mon,” April pushes their friend away from her, putting finger on his lips before he can whine. “Casey, I have a bed. Let’s use it why don’t we?”

“Standin’, sittin’- all good by me as long as I get some more of _this...”_

Donnie’s stomach does a little swoop as Casey steals another kiss from April, and she mumbles in fond exasperation as she pushes him away again, taking his hand to lead them both over to the bed. To Donnie.

He moves out of the way, tucking himself to the side so the two humans in the equation can clamber onto the mattress. Casey flops down shamelessly, closer to the headboard, and April, with a little more grace, places herself in the middle of things between them. Donnie draws his legs onto the bed cautiously; still feeling like the situation is too surreal to be reality.

“Hey… come here,” April says, breaking the lull of quiet, and Donnie moves closer as asked. The bed creaks under their weight- _his_ weight, if he’s honest, the shell and density of his mass is triple either of the humans- but settles again as he does.

April’s fingers brush the buckles of Donnie’s belt, and her eyes look up at him, questioning.

Donnie pushes away her hands, and does it himself. He drops his heavy gear off the side of the bed, putting aside the need to arm and defend himself at all times. Not here, not now. Not with these two incredible people.

He lets April take off his mask, though. Undoing the knot and taking it from his face. It hides nothing, none of his wrappings or bandages hides anything, Donnie knows that, but he still feels so very exposed without them.

“Jeez, you look naked without that thing,” Casey comments, summarising things. Donnie rolls his eyes.

“I’m technically… always naked,” Donnie says, lips twitching mischievously, feeling brave enough to call attention to that weirdness about himself.

“Oh, we know,” April says, eyes mirthful and cheeks red. “We very much know, Donnie.”

“Distracting as _fuck,_ lemme tell you,” Casey says dryly.

Donnie’s stomach squirms, a little disbelieving of that. “Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah. Like, you realize you and your bros spend literally every night working out, right? It _shows,_ man.”

The words are in a clearly appreciative tone, reinforced by how Casey very obviously skims his eyes over Donnie’s admittedly toned body. Donnie laughs, and doesn’t know how to respond to that information.

“He’s not wrong,” April agrees in a low voice, discarding Donnie’s mask over the side of the bed and placing her hands on his shoulders. “You are very, very distracting.”

Now Donnie _really_ doesn’t know how to respond.

He thankfully doesn’t have to, since April takes the initiative to bring their lips together, and holds him flush to her in a kiss that banishes Donnie’s thoughts.

She’s- _perfect._ Everything he ever wanted of her, and more, _better,_ because she’s real and _this_ is real and there’s nowhere else Donnie would want to be right this second. Except maybe doing the same thing, but with Casey instead.

At that thought, Donnie pulls back enough that he can look over April’s shoulder, towards their other member, and he meets Casey’s eyes. Their friend smiles; slow and pleased, and doesn’t look at all like he feels left out.

April glances backwards, too, and her lips quirk in a grin. Donnie sees a glint of thrill, of satisfaction, in her lovely blue irises, and knows it’s because Casey is watching them do this, and she loves it.

Donnie feels his own buzz of conflicting feelings- a swirl of emotions that all lead up to _pleasure_ , and he licks his lips, shivering. He’s been unprepared for this situation, unprepared to feel so _pleased_ to be seen, by April, by Casey, and have neither of them be hurt or upset when he’s not with them specifically.

He hopes this lasts as long as possible, keeps going and going until his chest is bursting with those pleased emotions, and he can squirrel them away deep inside himself and keep them forever, hot and lovely and so precious he can’t bear it.

“C’mere,” April murmurs, bringing Donnie back to the present, and moving away from him towards the headboard. He follows, as asked, and finds himself being directed to loom over April as she draws him down to the bed.

He holds himself up, hesitating, resisting trapping April under him at all, and anxiously flickers his eyes to Casey again to see what he thinks.

Casey has propped his head against his arm, still watching them with his half smirk and content expression, and Donnie only looks at him a moment longer before April’s lips catch his again, and lovingly burns away those anxieties of this being okay to do.

April is small but powerful, though that power is subdued at the moment. She’s nearly soft in Donnie’s grasp, for all the hard muscle she’s got under her curves. Her mouth is sweet, tasting like lingering chapstick, and as she presses their bodies tighter together, pulling Donnie down and down and down against her, he feels a shivery tremble start in his chest.

He’s not aware of it at first, thoughts taken up with increasingly brave kisses. April’s mouth is hot against his, and Donnie feels every shift of her body against him acutely. He holds back from moving too quickly, crossing yet another line into something he’s not sure anyone is ready for, but it’s hard because April’s body feels so good against his, all gentle curves and coiled strength, and his whole chest is shaking now, as he kisses her deeper, tries to take a little more, go a little further, bury himself in this beautiful, amazing girl he loves-

He finally notices why his chest is shaking, and the sound he’s begun making with each gentle roll of pleasure through him. One that rises and falls and vibrates up and out his throat as he presses his mouth to April’s- the noise painfully obvious especially to her, the receiver of it, the _cause_ of it-

Cold water splashes down on Donnie’s mind, and he forces himself to break away from April. He puts a hand over his mouth, rolling off her and trying to stifle any chirrs still coming out of him.

“Donnie?” April asks, sitting up and looking at him. Casey, losing his relaxed, satisfied smile, sits up as well. Donnie feels very exposed, and wishes he could reach over and turn off the lamp right now. Hide in the dark where that sort of thing belongs, where things like _him_ belong.

“Sorry,” Donnie says tightly, when he trusts himself to speak without a slight warp to his words. Thank god he hadn’t been talking; it would’ve made this even worse. “I. I won’t do that again, sorry.”

“…the noise thing?” Casey ventures, one eyebrow raised. Donnie nods, having a hard time looking either of them in the eye. April and Casey exchange a brief glance, and then Casey says, “…dude, why not?”

“Because- because it’s weird,” Donnie says, shame making his throat constrict.

“What even is it?” April questions, reaching over and taking one of his hands. Donnie’s hand dwarfs hers, mismatched and strange looking, and he feels even worse.

“It’s…” He has to look down, hunching up. “It’s, um. It’s something turtles do. When they’re having sex.” The last sentence comes out in a rush, and Donnie feels violently embarrassed about the whole thing. He tries to make it better, quickly adding, “But we- me and my brothers- we’ve got larger vocal range! I mean. Fuck, I mean we can make sounds _other_ than that, and it’s not exclusively for copulation, it can be triggered by a number of things- I’m usually good at not letting that happen, I promise-”

“Donnie, Donnie, _hey,”_ April says, stopping his ramble. She squeezes his hand, wrapping her other around it, too. “Calm down, why’re you so worked up about this?”

Donnie wants to say he’s not, but April is not just an empath, but someone who almost _always_ sees straight through him, powers or no. He all but hangs his head, forcing himself to mumble, “Because it’s… freaky, okay? It’s not something people do.”

A very, very negative part of himself, black and cold feeling, the source of his cynicism and pessimism- feels certain that making animalistic noises will be the straw on the camel’s back. Being a mutated animal is one thing, but _acting_ like one, even after living like a person his whole life? It brings up the intense discomfort he has towards himself, on bad nights, on bad days- where the fact that he’s not human and won’t ever be, but is still a thinking, feeling _person…_ feels too hard to deal with.

Donnie isn’t expecting soft lips to brush his cheek, specifically a ridge under his eyes that’s a little rougher than the rest of his face. Donnie blinks, meeting April’s eyes, and sees… love in them.

“I can read emotions,” she says, as though that’s news. She continues, “I can sometimes predict the future, or tell the past of something just by holding it. I can lift a _tanker truck_ off the ground with my _mind,_ Donnie.”

“…and?” he asks cautiously.

“I’m a genetically engineered bio weapon, hon,” April says, smiling with something caught between sympathy and amusement. “You making cute noises when you’re happy is the least freaky thing you could do.”

Donnie feels caught off guard, and before he can stop himself, he glances over April’s shoulder at Casey.

Their friend gives a lazy shrug, smiling warmly at them both. “The lady speaks the truth,” Casey says nonchalantly. “You both got cute quirks going on.”

April snorts, looking a little exasperated. “Shattering windows with psychic blasts isn’t something most people consider cute, Jones.”

“I am not most people. I am,” he gives them a cocky smile, along with a single finger gun, “ _Casey Jones.”_

Donnie has to let out a surprised laugh. April groans, but it turns into a giggle at the end.

“Come here, you,” she says, reaching backwards and pulling Casey to wrap himself around her back. He obediently does, propping his chin on April’s shoulder as they both look at Donnie again.

“See? Now _that’s_ freaky,” April says, patting Casey’s cheek.

 _“Hey,”_ Casey says without heat, grinning like it’s the best compliment possible.

“And I can start levitating the furniture if it would make you feel better,” April offers. The hand still holding Donnie squeezes his large fingers, slim but strong, ever reassuring.

“We like you just how you are, Donnie. I promise,” she says softly, kindly. Lovingly.

Casey reaches around her, adding his hand to April’s around Donnie’s. “Same here, Don.”

Donnie sits on his side of the bed, feeling overwhelmed for the millionth time tonight. None of this could possibly be…

He looks up, and sees two people he’s gazed after for years looking right at him, exactly the way he always wanted them to. And it’s real. It’s all real.

“Okay,” he says softly, clasping his hands around both April’s and Casey’s. “Okay, I believe you.” Donnie smiles, something inside brightening with hope and emotion in a way that hurts it feels so good. “Thank you.”

_For this, for accepting me, for everything._

“Oh, love,” April says, whisper soft, like she knows exactly what he’s thought and felt for their unconditional acceptance, and she only has to tug lightly for him to come back to them, for him to allow their hands and bodies to welcome him back into a fold of limbs and affection and old yet brand new love.

Donnie sinks into it, into them, and doesn’t even try to come back up again for air.

Casey’s lips find his, demanding and insistent, but in a way that’s just so _him_ that it doesn’t make Donnie feel trapped or pushed. Casey doesn’t censor himself, doesn’t hold himself back- it’s the best and worst quality about him, one that infects them all with rash impulses and trigger happy choices, and it’s so good, here and now. It makes it simple, it makes it plain to understand, it makes it damn clear that Casey wants this, wants _Donnie,_ and leaves no room for misunderstanding now that they have it in the open.

Donnie is bleary and excited and lets go a little more, slips through his own control just a bit, maybe a lot, and Casey hums happily into his mouth as Donnie’s chest vibrates with sounds. Little low noises of pleasure and happiness and _love_ , rolling out of him and into the air, flowing more freely than he’s ever let them. Purrs that thrum in him, in his bones, he’s _so happy_ he can’t even try to help it, and Casey enables it, _April_ enables it, her arms winding around his neck as she presses in, presses close, leaves kisses that burn on Donnie’s throat.

She’s so good, Casey is so good, and they’re here and they love him and it’s _so, so good._

Donnie can’t form a better description than that, at the moment. Can barely think outside of how warm and _wonderful_ the bodies against him are, the hot mouths and breaths pressing and mixing with his, and he doesn’t care if he never has another thought other than this, never makes another sound other than the chirrs leaving his lips and making April giggle softly and Casey murmur smugly, both of them encouraging and coaxing, _keep doing that, feels good, doesn’t it? C’mon, it’s just us, it’s just you, we love it- love_ you _, don’t be afraid-_

Donnie isn’t afraid, not right now.

Hopefully, he won’t ever be again.

Hopefully, there’s only this, and so much more to come.

Donnie is without air and as far from the surface as he can go, and he is breathless with joy for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couple more postings and this ought to be complete.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second to last chapter, enjoy some more of these three. <3

Hours later, the room is quiet, and for the first time in days, their balance restored.

April lies awake, sometime after she’s slept and dreamt and come back to consciousness, nestled between two people she’s imagined like this so many times.

Casey is still wrapped around her from behind, long limbs indelicately stretched out for the most comfort possible. His exhales are warm against her scalp, and his bare chest to her equally bare back has kept her warm despite most of their blanket being stolen.

April has been staring at Donnie’s sleep slack face for a while now, from between her hooded eyes and bouts of drifting near-sleep. She’s never let herself just look at him, taking in each detail of his face and form and memorizing them. She never wanted to make him feel like an oddity to examine and observe, or cause a miscommunication of intentions she- they, really- weren’t ready for.

Of course now, she’s got tentative and learning but _wanting_ nips left on her neck, back, and lips, and her hair has been pulled from its ponytail and tangled between fingers a dozen times over. They didn’t go too far, not yet- this is new, and delicate, and as much as she, they all have, thought about it before, they’re… trying to take it slow. Figure things out.

It didn’t _quite_ go like that, but they did try for caution every now and then.

Especially because Donnie, who was still hesitant about where he placed his hands, asked at least twice each time they moved a little further along, _are you sure, is this okay, we can stop-_ he’d wanted so badly to touch and caress April and Casey both, but held himself back over and over, until one or both of his humans pulled him close and just did it themselves.

April lifts a hand from the warmth under their blanket, and reaches up to trace the smooth scales of Donnie’s face. He’s still got bags under his eyes, bruised from days and nights spent worrying about their catalyst, the event that _finally_ set this in motion after years of stagnation- but they’re accompanied by a few on his neck, darkened spots of a different nature, and April feels warmly pleased in her stomach that _she_ put them there. They negate the ones under his eyes, hopefully, and she’ll leave as many as it takes to fully convince Donnie this is real, that they want this, they all _want this._

April also needs to reaffirm it with herself, those things. That she isn’t having a bittersweet dream of what she wants of them, wants _for them_ , and that the two amazing people curled around her are really here.

At least Casey accepted it, once she set him and Donnie to rights. If there is one thing she and Donnie can depend on, and often need, it’s the surety that Casey manages to have once he’s made up his mind. No room for doubts, not after he’s looked them in the eye and stated the situation as fact.

They all paced around worrying themselves silly over this for too long. It’s happening, finally, and for how long it will last…

Well, April personally hopes it _never_ ends, and dearly prays that feeling is shared between her boys.

Her boys. _Her boys._ She can think that without guilt, or hesitation. Only warmth, only love. Finally.

Under her tracing fingers, Donnie’s eyes flutter open. Their eyes meet in the early gloom of ungodly morning hours, and like the sun rising outside April’s home, he smiles at her.

“Hi,” Donnie whispers, shy and sweet and rough with sleep. April’s heart does a joyous little flip to have him here, in her bed, looking like he’s just had the best night of his life.

If April is honest, the night is probably near the top of her list for favorite evenings, too.

“Hi,” April whispers back, running her thumb along the ridge of harder scales of his cheekbone. She’s always wanted to do that, always wanted to gently touch all the incredible differences he has from anyone else.

Donnie is not human, he is not _beautiful_ by any measure society might place on him- but by god does April think he’s _stunning_ sometimes, in his best moments. When he’s just completed a new invention, when he’s beaming and on top of the world- when he’s contemplative and quiet, lost in thought and biting his lip distractedly as he thinks- when he looks at her or Casey or his family and just looks so _happy,_ so content, so proud of them all.

And here, finally, she can touch his cheek and think those things and just let the adoration she’s got stored up in her flow freely.

The way he shifts his head, following the heat of her palm and fingertips, makes the moment even better. April holds perfectly still as Donnie turns his head, lips brushing against her wrist’s skin, and presses cool, quiet kiss to her tendons there. His eyes flicker to her as he does, and April feels her breath catch in her throat.

His larger hand comes up to cup hers, holding it to his face, to his lips, and April shivers. It’s such an intimate gesture, overwhelmingly so. They did a number of things in the past hours, but still… it feels so dearly loving it aches in her chest.

“…you look really beautiful,” Donnie whispers against her skin, red irises settled on her and filled with the devotion April has never known what to do with, how to reciprocate so completely and sincerely.

She finally does, now. Finally can.

“So do you,” April whispers back, and takes great pleasure in the embarrassed huff he makes, hiding his bashful grin in her palm.

“Do not,” he mumbles.

“Do too,” she replies.

“Do not, come on-”

“I’ll wax poetry, Donnie, don’t tempt me-”

“ _April,_ oh my god, _no-”_

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty,” Casey mumbles sleepily. He shifts around, raising his head above April’s bare shoulder and laying his chin there. “We’re all fuckin’ super models, I promise. Can we keep sleeping though? ‘m supposed to go grocery shopping today with my sister and I need my beauty sleep.”

April rolls her eyes with a chuckle and Donnie laughs, reaching over to push Casey off her shoulder. There’s a brief fuss of drowsily traded insults and aggressive compliments, between all of them, because April isn’t immune to a bit of teasing fun, and then they manage to settle again.

Sleep comes easy, despite Donnie still hogging all the blankets. But Casey continuing to heat April’s back makes up for that, and so does the blissful smile curling their boyfriend’s lips.

Casey leaves them with a grumble and pout, much later in the morning, and April and Donnie do nothing to speed his exit. It takes a few tries for him to actually make it out the door, fingers continuously snagging the edge of his jacket, his belt loops, tugging him back to them and making him quiet any protests with firm kisses.

“ _Jerks,”_ Casey scolds them on his umpteenth try to actually _leave_ the apartment. April just laughs and so does Donnie, and they shower him with teasing smooches until he forces them off and runs for the door. If not for his little sister’s strict coupon schedule, and sharp little tongue when he’s absent, April doesn’t doubt they could have tempted Casey back to them, back into her room…

But alas, they all have things to attend to. Kinda. Casey has family responsibilities, and April and Donnie need to actually eat something.

“My dad shouldn’t be back for at least a few more hours,” April says as they enter the kitchen. It’s fairly tidy, since she and her father have always been pretty clean with their home. “We’ll have the place to ourselves until then. You feel like hanging around?”

“It’s not like I have much choice,” Donnie says, and ah, right. April glances towards the sunlight streaming through the single kitchen window, and grimaces a little in embarrassment. It’s risky for Donnie to try moving around out in the daylight hours, even if he’d head straight for the sewers.

“Sorry,” April apologizes swiftly. He’s so normal for her to be around nowadays, it sometimes doesn’t register fully the limitations he’s still got out in the world, just for being himself.

Donnie shrugs. “Nothing you can do about it, don’t worry. I’ll get out of here soon as the sun goes down, and I’ll try to keep out of your father’s way.”

“You don’t have to hide in the closet, Donnie, my dad knows you all,” April says, shaking her head and bending down to the pots cupboard. “You’re our guest. By the way- oatmeal for breakfast?”

“Yes please,” Donnie replies. “But your dad, he gets… twitchy around me and my brothers. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable in his own home.”

“He’s twitchy anyway, hon,” April comforts. Her father has worked hard the past years, to overcome the traumas he suffered. He’s made a lot of progress, and there’s been only a few instances the last while his anxiety medications failed him.

April brings the pot to the sink, turning the tap and filling it. The oatmeal container is already by the stove, where her father probably left it last time he made breakfast.

“Still,” Donnie insists as she turns on the burner, setting the pot down. He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed. “It’s understandable of him to react negatively to our presences, given how many bad experiences we’re associated with.”

“I’m associated with all of those, too, Donnie,” April says, going to retrieve bowls from the top cupboards and then spoons from the drawers. “He just doesn’t like it when you guys drop by un-expectantly, that’s all. He knows you’re here, and were here all night. It’ll be fine.”

“…April? What did you tell him? About what we were doing, last night. The three of us together.”

April turns, bowls and spoons in hand, and sees Donnie with a careful expression.

“I told him I needed the house for just the three of us, since we had a private matter to figure out that needed a private space we wouldn’t be interrupted in,” she tells him truthfully. “Why?”

“That, well, that leads to a number of conclusions he might make. About what we did.”

April tilts her head, lips quirking. “You mean, conclusions that we made out a stupid amount and slept in one bed? Which we did?”

Donnie’s lips press in a thin line, and April moves back to the stove, setting the bowls down. He’s still looking tense when she glances at him again.

“What?” she asks.

“You know this isn’t normal, right?” Donnie says quietly. “The three of us. Even if I wasn’t- you know. A mutant. It’d still be… kind of weird.”

“I’m a mutant, too,” April reminds.

Donnie chuckles self-deprecatingly. “Yeah, and you can take public transit without starting a riot downtown. I’m not… I don’t look human, April. I’m not human, period.”

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed,” April says, leaning against the counter and smirking. Her smirk falls away as Donnie’s expression sours.

“I’m serious,” he says, and sounds like he is. “What is your dad going to think, anyway? That it’s not just three of us, but there’s _me_ in the mix, and-”

“And _what_ , Donnie?” April asks pointedly. Donnie’s shoulders slump.

“Casey wouldn’t even be able to tell his family anyway,” Donnie says, and April finally notices the arms crossed over his chest aren’t casual, but protective. A defense. “Not about me, that’s for sure. They wouldn’t want- I mean, who _would?_ But he- he can tell them about _you,_ and… you could do that, too. Tell your dad just about Casey, leave me out of it.”

April is so stunned by the words coming out of Donnie’s mouth that she gets stuck, processing them, and Donnie clearly takes her following silence the wrong way, hunching on himself and trying to cover up the obvious hurt written all over him- all of it ringing true and clear to her senses, a cloud of negative emotions that just about make her want to tear up, oh, _Donnie-_

April crosses her kitchen in the blink of an eye, and tugs him down to press a needed kiss to his lips.

“You,” April says to him, between furiously loving kisses, “You _stupid-_ I’m not going to do that to you, I’m not going to just- _omit you_ from things, not when- my dad _knows,_ you stupid, stupid, _ugh-_ and Casey _would tell,_ if his family knew about you all- _”_

“It’d be _easier_ on- on you both-” Donnie protests, and April won’t let him break away, keeps pressing her lips to his scaly face and trying to _convince him_ , of course she’s going to tell, of _course_ Casey would tell if he could-

“Nothing for us is _ever_ easy, hon,” April says, and god knows that’s true about their lives, but- “Why would we even _want_ that at this point?”

Donnie makes a soft, wounded sound into her mouth, and curls around her, clutching her close to himself and _aching_ his tangle of happiness and sadness is so loud. April lets him bury his face against her neck, and she holds him back as tightly as he is her. Stroking his shell, feeling its ridges and lines, knowing the weight it puts on him, setting him apart from _everything_ else in the world.

“I’m sorry,” he says, murmurs to her skin. “I’m sorry, I just- ‘m already so lucky, you don’t have to, I’m okay with it, I- I already live in the shadows as it is, I don’t need you to… to…”

“I _want_ to,” April insists, and turns her face to his throat and presses her lips to the bruises she left hours ago, making him jump and shiver in response. Her mouth once more against the dark little blooms on skin that doesn’t bruise easily- it’d taken some doing, to get those marks there, and the satisfaction of them _staying_ was so sweet, sweet as the sounds Donnie had made under her touch, under Casey’s-

How could he think they wouldn’t want to share how much they loved that- love _him?_

“I love you, Donnie,” April says to him, swearing it again, so he won’t keep _doing this-_ thinking they wouldn’t want to give him everything and have everything of _him_. Donnie makes a quiet, almost pained sound, and shivers again in her grasp. April kisses his throat again, then twice more, and then lifts his head from her neck to find his lips.

“I love you, I love you, we both _love you,”_ April promises him, punctuating each kiss. “I’m going to tell my dad, I’m going to tell _everyone_ I can, if you’ll let me, and I am _never_ going to, even for a second, try to hide your part in this relationship.”

“I’m sorry, please, _please,”_ Donnie says, like he can’t figure out what he needs to tell her, and she catches those desperate words in her mouth. April feels him, Donnie’s emotions- how he wants but is scared but _needs_ and is sorry for that- and April kisses him again and again until those jagged feelings smooth.

The hiss of burning water drags them both from their rather dramatic comforting session, and April curses as she rushes back to the stove. Her lips and sixth sense tingle like mad while she turns down the heat, opening the instant oatmeal container and dumping in approximately how much they’ll need. Donnie is still lit up in her senses, still a beckoning draw to her heart and powers both, and the time it takes to set up their breakfast is incredibly frustrating.

But, they’re a little more composed when she turns away from it again. Enough that Donnie no longer looks like he’s apologetic for even being in her home, and April has control so that she doesn’t just drag him back down and keep making out, burning food be damned.

April tucks her messy bangs out of her face, and contemplates briefly what to do next. The idea comes to her near immediately, and she passes Donnie by without answering his cautious questions of what she’s doing.

April’s phone is on her side table, and she brings it back with her as she texts quickly. As she returns to the kitchen, she presents the screen to her boyfriend.

“See? Right there, I told him,” April says stubbornly, knowing her own words Donnie is reading.

_I’m dating two people, dad_

_Casey and Donnie both_

_Thanks for the time alone, hope you had a good time with aunt Carol_

“April,” Donnie says softly, biting his lip and looking at the phone in her hand. “Are you… sure?”

April closes her phone’s screen and puts her hands on her hips. She fixes him with a raised eyebrow until Donnie quails.

“Right, dumb question,” he mutters, but sounds affectionate in doing so. “Stubborn about this, aren’t you?”

“Damn right,” April says firmly. Her phone vibrates, and she glances at it briefly. “Oh. Huh.”

“What did he say?” Donnie asks, and there’s that nervousness again. April absently finds his hand, taking it and rubbing her thumb over the back of it.

“He says he isn’t all that surprised,” April paraphrases. Another text is sent. “…and that he had a feeling I’d- oh come on, just because I have unusual hobbies doesn’t necessarily _guarantee_ I’ll have unusual romantic partners. _Dad,_ jeez…”

“That is. Better a reaction that I thought he’d have?” Donnie says, sounding awkward. April looks up from her phone, and sees his nervous expression. “I mean, I thought he’d have some concerns, at least a few, about, and, um… oh fuck I still have to tell my _own family,_ oh my god…”

As Donnie tenses up all over again, anxious about what the future holds, April finds a fond, exasperated smile on her own lips.

They’ve dealt with far worse things than this. They’ll figure this out, eventually.

Until then, April sets her phone on the counter, and gently pulls Donnie down for more kisses. Banishing the worried pinch to his face and forcing him to focus _only_ on the good things happening right now. April keeps him there, holds him close, and determinedly sinks them back into the happy fog they’d had when they all first woke up.

All their problems can come later. Now is the time for irresponsible affection and avoidance of confrontation. And how sweet it is.

“Mm… April…”

“Hm?”

“April, the-”

“Shh, not right now.”

“April-”

“ _Shh.”_

“April, the _oatmeal.”_

“Oh _fuck.”_

They have to abandon the burnt oats in the sink, for later washing. At least there’s cold leftover Indian in the back of the fridge, and after hanging with Donnie’s family for so long, April isn’t picky.

Particularly when the company is so pleasant, and makes the most _adorable_ sounds when April places her cold toes on his thigh under the table.

 

 

 

“It’ll be fine.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Then I’ll kick their shins until it is.”

Casey’s comment gets a weak smile out of Donnie, and he takes his boyfriend’s hand, squeezing it. On Donnie’s other side, April has been holding his hand since they entered the lair, and with both of them doing it Donnie looks slightly less nervous.

Casey is confident this’ll work out, even if not right away. The brothers have always been the weirdest, most incredibly bizarre family, and because of that the most accepting people Casey’s ever known. They’re not perfect, but they’re a lot better than most of the assholes out in the world.

And from what Casey has seen, family is the most important thing to them in the world. He gets that- he’s got his little sister and his dad, after all. Casey knows he’d do anything for his family, and he knows the brothers would do anything for each other.

He’s hoping that unusual romantic entanglements are included in the unconditional love they’ve got going. Casey doesn’t want Donnie to have bad blood between him and his siblings over this, and hell, it’s not like Casey is in any rush to be on the outs with his best friends. April probably feels the same way, since she all but got adopted by the family long before Casey entered things.

They’ve been through way worse shit than a coming out event. This’ll probably be fine. Right?

Right. And Casey will keep his shin kicking promise if it isn’t.

Conveniently, all three members of the family are in the kitchen tonight. Whatever Mikey is making for their breakfast, it smells like the exact opposite of something Casey would want to put in his mouth. But, as it tends to go, they’re all probably going to eat it anyway and grudgingly admit it tastes pretty good.

Leo is doing a crossword puzzle at the table, while Raph has a novel in his hands directly across from him. They both look up as Casey and his partners push through the curtains, and even Mikey throws a glance over his shoulder to see who’s arrived.

Casey catches Raph’s eyes widening, seeing their joined hands. Leo is just giving them all a somewhat confused look, clearly picking up on the tension of things. Mikey’s already gone back to whatever he’s boiling on the stove.

Donnie clears his throat awkwardly, looking like he wants to fall through the floor.

“So, uh… you all know I sort of… stayed over at April’s last night and today,” Donnie starts, voice wavering here and there. Raph slowly closes his book, looking interested, and Leo lets his newspaper droop. Donnie continues, “And, um… it was because we needed to. Talk. About stuff.”

“What stuff?” Leo asks, and yeah, Casey can tell he doesn’t have any inkling of what’s gone down. Raph clearly gets it, leaning on his palm and looking at them with a genuinely surprised look.

“Huh,” Raph says.

“What?”

“Never thought that would be the solution.”

“Raph, what are you talking about. Donnie? What’s going on?”

Donnie is making a drawn out _“Uhhhhhhh…”_ sound, and their wonderful girlfriend takes mercy on him having to finish that sentence.

“We decided to date,” she explains, and gestures at their conjoined hands. “All three of us.”

Raph looks over at Casey, who shrugs and nods. “That’s the gist of it, yep.” His friend opens his mouth, closes it, and crosses his arms over his chest, looking contemplative.

“Huh,” Raph says again.

Donnie lets out a tight laugh. “Tada?” he says weakly.

Casey squeezes his hand again. This isn’t going too terribly so far.

Leo drops his pencil, blinking like a deer in the headlights. By the stove, Mikey gasps.

“That’s… an _option?”_ Mikey asks, and seems to be more shocked by the revelation that multiple partners can be a _thing,_ rather than that Casey and April are dating his brother at the same time.

“Yes, Mikey,” April says, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “It’s just not all that common.”

“You can date… _two people…_ ” Mikey covers his mouth, letting out another small gasp. “My childhood debate to marry Xander or Cordelia, _solved.”_

“Mikey, really? This is my actual life,” Donnie scolds. His brother waves him off with the ladle he’s cooking with.

“Dee, please, Buffy was really important to me as a kid. Let me put this to rest.”

“I don’t know what I expected from you.”

Casey leans towards Donnie’s ear, and says quietly, “Yo, is he…?”

“As far as we can tell, I don’t think even he knows,” Donnie says dryly. Mikey, overhearing everything somehow, salutes with a smile.

“What?” Leo asks belatedly.

“Dating, Leo,” Casey repeats, shaking his and Donnie’s hands for emphasis. “Kissing and everything.”

“And more, apparently,” Raph assess, probably seeing the bruises they’ve all given each other, and Donnie shrinks a little in embarrassment. Casey grins unabashedly. He wasn’t quite able to do as much of the work as his partners, missing teeth and all, but hey, he gets props for trying.

Leo looks between them all, not seeming like he’s rejecting what’s happened, so much as being deeply confused. “Wait, when did this even happen?” he asks.

“Last night,” April says, smiling and looking a little proud of herself. “Give or take a few years of building tension.”

“Congrats!” Mikey cheers, and goes back to making breakfast; apparently done with being involved in things. Seeing as Leo is staring at his crossword puzzle like it’ll offer better understanding of the situation, and Raph is just sitting there and watching them, Casey decides it’s safe to sit down now.

He only has to tug once, and he and his partners separate to take their seats at the crowded little island table. Casey on Raph’s side, Donnie on Casey’s other, and April between him and Leo. Even if the context is new, the situation is the same as it’s always been and the feeling of normalcy returns bit by bit.

“You’re all taking this very calmly,” Donnie comments, and he sounds better than he had at the beginning of things. Raph shrugs.

“Honestly, I’m just glad we’re past the stupid rivalry thing you two had going,” he says, pointedly looking at Casey and Donnie both.

“Same feel,” April says blandly, and ignores the falsely wounded looks Casey and Donnie shoot her. She instead nudges the quietest member of the table. “You doing alright, Leo? We didn’t shock you that badly, did we?”

“Uh…” Leo presses his lips into a thin line. “A little? I mean, not that I’m- _against_ it or anything, I’m just. You know.”

“Processing?” Casey offers.

“Yeah. That.”

“What did you think they were doing, all together like that in April’s apartment?” Raph asks.

“A sleepover or… something. Ugh, shut up. It sounds stupid when you make me say it.”

“Did you really think we were doing something else, Raph?” Casey asks, elbowing his friend. Raph shrugs.

“You three had the _worst_ romantic tension I ever had the misfortune of witnessing. I might’ve missed you and Donnie’s, but _someone_ was gonna do something stupid eventually. And besides,” Raph says, giving Casey a side look, “you and Donnie got _pre-tty_ close at the farmhouse.”

Casey laughs, flushing against his will. He shoves his friend, who shoves him back, and things feel normal, thank god. Leo is asking questions instead of outright denying the concept of a poly, and Mikey seems to have accepted things and moved on already.

It’s… probably the best case scenario they could have hoped for. Casey hopes that eventually, if Donnie ever feels comfortable with the idea- that Casey’s own family takes things as well as this.

“Elbows up, soup’s on!” Mikey slides hot bowls full of something dark and sludgy onto the table, and they’re all distracted trying to avoid being burned by sloshing liquids. Leo scolds his brother briefly for getting his crossword puzzle dirty, and there are customary complaints from everyone else about the near scalding.

It fully restores the normal tone of their group dynamic, and Casey, though he’d been sincerely confident, feels very relieved. He knows Donnie feels even more so, given how his shoulders slump and he sighs.

Casey nudges his boyfriend’s leg under the table, and offers a smile. Donnie smiles back, grateful and happy, and that makes Casey’s stomach do all sorts of little flips.

They dig into the weirdly tasty food Mikey offered- a dubious dish made with “ _Oh, you know, a lil of everything,”_ \- and rejoin the flow of table conversation. The only thing different from any evening before is that Casey leaves his knee against Donnie’s, and gets sweetly knowing smiles from April at the end of the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost over...... :')


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> final chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are, the final chapter of this fic. :')

Like most life changing events they tend to go through, things settle back into the usual rhythm before they really notice. Not that it’s even all that much of a change, if Donnie is honest with himself. Not when they’re all together with his brothers, and similarly when they’re with their other friends. It’s only in private, usually, that things are vastly different than they were before.

Whereas before, Donnie would snark and spar and build things with April and Casey, and keep his daydreams to himself. Of April curling into his side after a long evening patrol run, hot against his scales and with still enough breath in her lungs to trade banter. Or of Casey and Donnie’s bicker fights while working on projects ending in a peck on the cheek as they have a break through. Or… of having both of them with him, loitering on rooftops and trading gestures of affection as easy as breathing. Small things, but tantalizing nonetheless.

And now he’s gotten to do all those things and more. It’s better than any daydream he ever conjured, and Donnie couldn’t be happier.

Today isn’t quite about that, though. Today is April and Casey’s day exclusively, and Donnie is just happy to be witness.

Donnie is long since used to the burn of digital screens on tired eyes, but he hears his brothers grumble about the glare now and again. He ignores their complaints, and instead shushes them again as the ceremony begins on screen.

“Why’s this gotta be so _early?”_ Mikey mutters, slouching further into his blanket and beanbag cocoon. “It’s like, not even six yet.”

“Because humans are diurnal for the most part,” Donnie replies.

“Lame.”

“Their names are _Jones_ and _O’Neil_ ,” Raph says despairingly. “It’s gonna be _ages_ before they get on stage.”

“Could be worse,” Leo comforts around a yawn, his jaw popping. “They could have Z last names.”

“If they did, I would not be awake right now. I don’t like them enough to do that.”

“Do you like anyone enough to do that?” Donnie asks, burrowing into his own burrito of blanket and beanbag.

“No,” Raph answers gruffly, which is probably a lie, but none of them are going to get him to say otherwise at the moment. It’s _way_ too early for anything resembling effort.

“Oh, look! It’s Mr. O’Neil!” Mikey says, pointing at the balding pale head in the crowd. On screen, it looks like Kirby is having a hard time getting to his seat, and the people in his way are doing nothing to make it easier on him.

Avoiding crowds by way of never being anywhere near them is one of the few benefits of being a mutant, Donnie supposes. He can’t imagine having _that many people_ being in physical contact with him, even only briefly. It’s almost shudder inducing.

“He should just shove the lady out of the way already,” Raph says, as Mr. O’Neil remains stuck behind a woman blocking the whole row; standing up and speaking to the people in the row behind them, oblivious to the growing traffic beside her. “Or like, parkour. He won’t break a hip if he does that, right? He’s not that old.”

“I don’t think Mr. O’Neil does parkour, Raph,” Leo says dryly.

“He should. He wouldn’t get stuck in a situation like that if he did.”

“Donnie, the camera’s dipping,” Mikey complains. “We can’t see _any_ of what’s happening.”

“Ugh, gimme a sec,” Donnie leans forwards, removing his arms from the warmth of his blanket and grabbing the controls. “I told you guys this was still experimental. It’s not going to be perfect.”

“I don’t care if its shit camera work, as long as it’s not cockroaches again,” Raph says, shivering in his beanbag+blanket combo.

“A cockroach wouldn’t be able to get this angle anyways,” Donnie says distractedly, maneuvering his first attempt at biotech in a long while back into optimal position. The horsefly-cam far away, flying around the atrium of April and Casey’s graduation ceremony, follows his command to a higher height again. Fixing its camera lens back on stage, where his partners will eventually appear to receive their diplomas.

It took some serious trial and error to create the miniature wetware for the fly, but it’s been worth it. The range he has with its signal is excellent, and despite being a fraction of the roach-cam’s size, it performs with twice the video quality. As long as Donnie doesn’t let it drift too close to anyone with a rolled up newspaper, and avoids the near impossible chance of it being exposed to mutagen, everything should be fine!

He refrains from saying so aloud. Too many jinxed experiments have taught him not to court fate’s ire like that.

It takes forever for the event to actually start, and Donnie admits even he starts to fall asleep during it. He’s been getting better rest lately, now that he has not just his brothers reminding him, but two awful, manipulative, conniving people who can trick him into being horizontal for more than four hours at a time. Terrible. Absolute backstabbers. God he loves them so much. And he _adores_ waking up after a nap and being curled up with one or two people who look at him with a smile, put down their book or phone or homework, and press delicate sweet kisses, or rough little smooches of affection, and just cause all sorts of happy knots in Donnie’s chest.

“He’s making the face again.”

“When isn’t he making the face these days?”

“This is even worse than when it was just the April crush.”

“Oh bug off!” Donnie snaps without heat, and all three of his siblings snicker at him. He can’t deny it, though. He probably is making the face he tends to have lately, remembering all the new wonderful things he gets to have in his life. All the new wonderful things he gets to have with _April and Casey._

“Ew,” Raph says to Donnie, curling his lip at the expression Donnie probably is wearing. Donnie sticks his tongue out like they’re eight and not almost eighteen.

He gets to be happy about this. He’s going to let himself be as happy as he pleases. And besides, Raph and their other two brothers never actually mean any harm by the comments. They all just like to poke fun at Donnie because they’re assholes and they love him.

“Oh my god, something’s _finally happening,”_ Mikey exclaims as the lights dim on screen and someone important looking walks onto the stage. All four of them groan in relief.

Unfortunately, what follows is what feels like an eternity of congratulations, and thanks, and reminiscing, and _ugh,_ even Donnie is bored now. There’s too much talking going on, and not at the speed it should be done with. It’s all overly complicated for something that could be done within an hour, instead of close to three according to the pamphlets.

“Okay, I get this is supposed to be really important to people, but this is a lot fanfare even for me,” Mikey says, when the third spokesperson in a row steps off the stage. He shakes his head. “We got our schooling done before we were fifteen, bruh. Is it really this hard to hand out a piece of paper?”

“We didn’t take higher education, Mikey, and humans like tradition,” Leo says, but even he, the one of them who loved the little ceremonies their father held for them each time they moved up a grade or ninjutsu level, looks bored. “I think they try to add onto it every generation, or something.”

“Partially correct,” Donnie mumbles around a yawn.

“Explains why this is taking _so damn long,”_ Raph mutters belligerently. They all hum in agreement.

After _forever,_ during which Donnie mourns that April and Casey can’t answer their phones at the moment, things finally start to actually move along. The four of them yawn and half-doze through the first dozens of students, parading across the stage to ceremoniously take a rolled up piece of paper. Donnie is once again annoyed, as they reach H in the alphabet after nearly a half hour, that April and Casey’s school combined with another three for their graduation ceremony. Really, couldn’t they all have used their own gymnasiums, and skipped the rental of an actual auditorium?

As they all complain about this, making fun of the ridiculous last names announced and the goofier students doing a stunt as they walk across the floor, they pretend that they aren’t all at least a little jealous of these teenagers. Envious that they’re stuck down here in the sewers, watching all this through spy equipment, and had been without a bigger celebration of their own graduation than their dad gifting handmade diplomas to them all at fourteen, years ago.

At least they’d splurged and gotten to have a bigger and more complex dinner than usual, and stayed up late into the day watching movies and eating junk food specifically for the occasion. Because they were nearly _adults_ , and they were finally done with lessons besides ninjutsu.

Donnie had finished school years prior, technically, but he’d busied himself with college level work until his brothers caught up to high school level, and tried to not rub it in their faces too much. They’d still thrown popcorn and pillows at him during that night, though, for commenting on that act of benevolence. And he’d deserved it a little (a lot), probably speaking.

Those years seem so far away, now, and Donnie misses them like anyone misses their better childhood moments. And though the ache of his passed guardian remains with him, as it does all of them, the present is sweeter than the small, lonely world they’d lived in. Bigger, brighter. Filled with people who love them as they are, for who they are.

Who love Donnie as he is, for who he is.

Speaking of.

“ _Finally,”_ Raph says, and they all sit up as J for Jones is called. There are only three kids before that last name is called, and Donnie can’t help the goofy smile that stretches across his face as it is.

Someone (possibly April, probably his dad) managed to get Casey’s signature bandana off his head and comb his hair for the ceremony. He’s dressed in the same dark red gown every other student is, and strides across the stage with all the confidence in the world. He looks, in Donnie opinion, quite handsome like this. Like someone who really is about to make the final steps into adulthood.

And then, as he takes his diploma and shakes hands with the teacher, he breaks into an air guitar dance, and throws a _rock on_ gesture at the audience for good measure.

Donnie snorts, and breaks out in laughter. His brothers do as well, rolling their eyes and throwing back their heads as their friend swaggers off stage again, leaving behind a bemused and exasperated faculty member.

“Oh my god, I don’t know what I even expected from him,” Donnie laughs.

“I’m actually a little impressed he showed some restraint and didn’t roller skate on stage,” Raph says.

“Oh, _no._ ”

“He told me that was one of the plans he had for it.”

“ _Casey,_ oh my god-”

“Why _didn’t he?!”_ Mikey demands, looking severely disappointed. Leo does too, though he’s at least trying to pretend he didn’t want that to happen.

Raph shrugs. “I think he said a teacher overheard him talking about it to his friends, got on his tail about respect for the education system, and I dunno, banned him from wearing anything but dress shoes?”

“ _Lame,”_ Mikey and Leo both say. Donnie just starts laughing again, because he does remember Casey being a little more ticked off than usual a week ago. But they’d gotten distracted before an actual conversation about _why_ could happen. The kind of distracted that started with working on one of the cars, and ended up with them laid out in the backseat and doing absolutely nothing productive.

They do that a lot, lately. It’s really cut into their old production rate. Not that Donnie is complaining. At all. Especially when April is nearby, and gets involved, and _wow,_ he can’t wait for them to visit again. When will the ceremony be over? Sooner than later, he hopes.

“Face,” Mikey comments blandly, kicking Donnie’s shin. Donnie kicks him back without reply, and they all settle in for another long wait.

At least O isn’t too far down the line from J. Donnie falls asleep only a little before they hear _“O’Neil”_ mentioned on screen. He smiles as warmly as he did for Casey- seeing April’s petite shape walk out into the light. Probably due to her powers, she looks right up at the fly-cam watching, and waves with a brilliant smile.

She looks… so beautiful. Donnie is struck briefly again how wonderful and amazing April is, and he feels a swell of pride on her behalf. For Casey, too. For them having made it this far and finally be able to close this chapter of their lives.

“Oh _hey,_ she knows we’re here!” Mikey says happily. “Hey, hey, Donnie, make it say hi to her. Donnie. Donnie, make it-”

“I heard you the first time, shut up!” Donnie snaps, but does as he’s asked. He makes the fly-cam descend, to nearly be level with April on the stage, and bobs up and down to show _hey, we see you, too!_

April sees them, and starts laughing in the middle of accepting her diploma. The teacher gives her a sincerely weirded out expression, and April just blows a kiss at the fly-cam for them as she exits the stage.

Donnie is quietly pleased to know that air kiss was mostly meant for him.

“And with that, I officially refuse to watch anymore of this, or see _you_ making that face,” Raph says, standing up from his beanbag and giving Donnie’s head a noogie as he passes. Donnie swats at him, but unfortunately misses. “I’m goin’ back to sleep. Wake me when it’s a reasonable hour.”

“Ugh, same,” Mikey agrees, and waddles off in his blanket burrito. Leo mumbles similarly, and gives Donnie’s shoulder an affectionate pat as he leaves. Donnie catches his brother’s hand briefly to return the gesture, and is then alone with the television.

It’ll be a fair bit before the ceremony is completed, and then there are the closing speeches, and the grad dinner afterwards… more chances to catch a peek of his partners through all that, maybe even fly close and say hi…

And well, Donnie doesn’t need sleep all that much anyway. He’ll stick around to watch a while longer.

 

 

 

There’s a period of time where Casey gets separated from April. He got snagged by his family almost immediately when the students were released, and he’s been chilling with them since then. His sister looks pretty entertained by the whole debacle the grad has been, bouncing around in her short blue dress and snatching the complimentary hors d'oeuvre from every table they get near. His dad looks about as proud as Casey’s ever seen him, which is the same as he always gets at any ceremony his kids are a part of.

Casey fondly remembers the year his little sister from graduated elementary to middle school. It’d been a tiny little thing, held in a dingy school gym, and their dad had shed at least five tears as his daughter accepted her certificate.

However, Casey is distracted from reminiscing by a flash of familiar red hair across the room. As much as he loves listening to his sister mumble around a mini quiche about her favorite show’s latest plot development, and their dad go “ _Mhm, and then what happens?”_ every time she trails off, he has a _girlfriend_ to give adoration and attention to, and that is not something he can fail to do.

“Brb, girlfriend time,” he says quickly, patting his sister’s back and hurrying off into the crowd. She calls after him _“You could at least pretend you were listening!”_ and he yells back that he totally was but this is _important,_ dammnit.

April is talking with a couple of her friends as he approaches, and he knows _she_ knows he there, but he still pretends he’s able to sneak up on his part-time kunoichi and wickedly psychic girlfriend.

“ _There’s_ my favorite lady friend,” Casey says, just by her ear and relishing in that he can wrap his arms around her torso, putting his chin on her shoulder and leaving it there. April just sighs, pats the side of his face, and he knows she’s totally smiling right now.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” says the friend in a maroon mermaid dress, taking the arm of her date in a green suit. The two girls walk away, both giggling and throwing looks over their shoulders.

“You scared off my friends,” April scolds without heat.

“Probably for the best. You were making them look bad,” Casey compliments, kissing April’s ear and making her stifle a soft sound.

She turns around, holding up a finger. “Uh uh, we’re here to be _respectable adults._ None of that until later.”

“Aw, you sure?”

“Quite,” April nods firmly. Then, as a smile quirks at her lips, “But we can have a little of… _this.”_

She doesn’t have to stand on tiptoe right now, since she’s in heels. Casey still makes it easier on her, and leans down to meet the kiss halfway. It’s sweet and chaste, since they’re in public, and they have all night for more.

Casey leans back after a beat, looking down at the woman in his arms. April’s toned body is barely hidden by the soft yellow folds of her dress; a spaghetti strap number with a short but flowing skirt. It falls to her knees, and drifts around like it’s weightless whenever she moves. Add in that her hair is up in a tidy bun, and clear rhinestones glinting on her neckline and ear lobes, April looks absolutely gorgeous. And with the little and large scars scattered over her body, from fights won and lost, it all makes her seem like a warrior princess come to grace their humble grad.

The whole get up is twice as hot as that, to Casey specifically, because he knows she chose the dress for how easy she could fight in it should the need arise, and that she’s got her tessen and a few kunai hidden underneath its skirt.

Casey has nothing on him except for his wallet and a handkerchief his dad gave him with the suit, but he feels completely safe with April here. She could probably break any man in the room over her knee without even trying, and that has to be the _dopest_ thing to know about your girlfriend.

April is so smoking hot. How is he this lucky.

“You’re cute when you space out,” April teases, reaching up and pinching his cheek lightly. “Thinking about something?”

“Only about you, babe,” Casey says with a grin. April snorts derisively about the pet name, but doesn’t fight him on it. Score one for Casey Jones.

“Anyways,” April says with a fond roll of her eyes, “do you know how many people have come up to me saying its _‘about_ time’ we got together?”

“Possibly the same number as my hockey team has players?” Casey guesses. That’d been a fun scrimmage night- literally _every single one_ of his friends got on his case about them taking so long. He’d been shoved around and punched in the shoulders so many times he’d had twice the bruises as usual.

April huffs. “Sometimes, it feels like everyone was just waiting for us to get our shit together.”

“ _We_ were waiting for us to get our shit together, too,” Casey bemoans. So many months, totally wasted on pining and romance chicken and feeling sorry for themselves, when they could have been _making out_ , and _holding hands,_ and doing all the stuff they usually did, except with 60% less space between them. Sometimes 100% less space.

“Well, thank goodness you two are impulsive idiots,” April says. “God knows how long it would have taken us otherwise.”

“Aw, hey, like you aren’t, too.”

“Am not, you’re slandering my good name.”

“Nah, just tellin’ the truth.”

“Slander. Lies.”

“Can’t ‘fake news’ your way out of this one, Red.”

“Oh my god, don’t compare me to that man. Fine, sometimes I’m a _little_ impulsive. Shut up.”

“Never, ‘cause it means you’re impulsive enough to date some people just as bad as you are…” Casey’s attention is then stolen by a disgustingly big fly landing on April’s bare shoulder, and he starts thinking about the other babe in his life. In both their lives.

“Hey, Don,” he greets, and the fly-cam lifts off April’s shoulder to hover; bobbing happily and practically dancing. April holds out her finger for the little spy tool, and it alights on her fingertip.

“See the whole show?” she asks their partner through the fly. It buzzes its wings, spinning in a circle. They take that as a _yes._

“Cool, and we’ll be around later tonight, ‘kay?” Casey informs the spec of a camera attached to the insect. It spins in a circle again, and Casey needs to remind himself to go get his phone back from his dad soon. A hilarious video opportunity, missed.

“You feel like sticking around until then, Donnie?” April questions the fly-cam. “I could carry the camera home in my purse’s pills capsule if it runs out of power.”

The fly jumps up and flies around their heads, before settling in Casey’s breast pocket. Wriggling into the white silk handkerchief and making itself safe and secure.

Casey grins, and twirls April so they can walk with his arm around her waist. “Well, that’s our answer. C’mon, let’s find your dad and introduce him to my dad again, get us going already and go get dinner. Plus, it’s kinda funny to see yours work so hard not to say anything about us being a threesome.”

“Casey, please. Be nice to my dad.”

“You don’t deny it’s funny.”

“…it’s a little funny.”

They snicker together as they head off to locate their families, as well as their phones, so they can properly add Donnie to the conversation over dinner. Conveniently, their relatives have already found one another by the time they get back, and Casey beams at his sister’s exaggerated disgust at their coupleness.

When he gets his phone back, Casey finds Donnie has sent him a pic of him and April, arms around one another and laughing with their faces close together. Probably gotten from the fly-cam footage.

Casey saves the picture immediately. That one’s a keeper for sure, despite it missing a member. But they’ll fix that later, of course.

For now, he takes April’s hand, and keeps hold of it until late in the evening. Her slim, calloused fingers are tight around his, and Casey doesn’t hesitate with the impulse to bring her knuckles to his lips, and copy the action Donnie had done for her once and made April blush brilliant scarlet.

She does so again this time, and isn’t that just the best reward possible?

Except no, the best reward is April pulling him down for a delicate kiss on the bridge of his nose, which sends pleased little shivers down to Casey’s toes.

 

 

 

Donnie eventually falls asleep completely.

Somewhere after the conversation over dinner really started to pick up- Mr. O’Neil and Mr. Jones weirdly have a mutual love of the same BBC drama shows, who would have thought- Donnie let his eyes fall shut for a moment. He was just resting his eyes, promise.

That didn’t really go as planned, seeing as the next thing he knows April is shaking him awake, whispering, “Hey, Donnie, wake up. We’re here.”

Donnie makes an incredibly intelligent response of slurred mumbling, reaching up to rub his eyes. He yawns blearily, and he then smiles as April gives his cheek a kiss.

“Evening,” he finally manages to say.

“Evening, hon,” April says affectionately, knelt beside his beanbag in her lovely yellow dress. “I figured you fell asleep on us, going radio silent like that.”

“Sorry… I didn’t manage to find the caffeinated coffee. Just decaf.” His brothers have recently begun to plot ways to make him live healthier, including lowering his (admittedly insane) caffeine intake levels. “I think my brothers are trying to sabotage my life with that.”

“Good thing I got this overpriced junk for you, then.”

Donnie’s vision is overtaken by a blurry white shape, and the scent of sugar and coffee beans hits him immediately.

“Oh, _god yes,”_ Donnie says reverently, taking the big white mug from Casey’s hands and bringing it to his mouth quickly as possible. He gets a gulp of it down, and its like the world is suddenly full of miracles. He curls around the glorious concoction, taking another three gulps of the hot liquid.

“Sometimes I wonder if we should just get this stuff in bulk from Costco,” Casey remarks, taking a seat on the floor with them.

Donnie loves that idea. It’s brilliant and he needs to make it happen. “I love you so fucking much, did I ever tell you that?”

Casey gives him a pleased smirk. “A few times, maybe? Say it again just to make sure.”

Donnie leans over and kisses him instead. Casey is blinking when they break apart, looking a little caught by surprise.

“Or you could do that,” Casey says after a beat, seeming perfectly happy with the exchange. Donnie just takes another sip of his coffee, smiling.

“Aw, it’s so cute when he short-circuits like that,” April coos to Donnie, who snorts into his mug at her syrupy sweet tone. Which, like it tends to, makes the tips of Casey’s ears go red. It’s even more obvious with his hair combed back.

“You can’t call every single thing we do _cute,_ Red,” Casey says, leaning against Donnie’s knee towards her. “We’re men, we don’t do cute.”

April grins slyly. “Hm, I don’t know about that. You getting into a heated rock-paper-scissors battle with your sister in the parking lot was pretty cute, especially since she beat you seven out of ten and made you-”

“April, wait- please don’t tell him about-”

“-swear to eat a ghost pepper, _whole,_ and let her record it for science class. What a good older brother you are.”

Donnie chokes on his coffee, wheezing with laughter. Casey groans, hiding his face in Donnie’s blanket. April laughs at them both.

“I want- _copies,”_ Donnie gasps out, throat burning.

“I made her promise me that copy already, don’t worry,” April says proudly. Then to their boyfriend, “Casey, your sacrifice will not be in vain. We’ll show every single one of his brothers and laugh at you committing suicide over a lost bet.”

 _“Hate both of you, totally evil,”_ Casey mumbles into Donnie’s blanketed thigh.

“Love you, too, dear,” April consoles him, patting his head. Donnie is finally catching his breath, clearing all the coffee that went down the wrong hole, as Casey swats April’s patronizing hand and stands up.

“I’m going to washroom,” he states firmly, “to take a shit and to get away from you assholes.”

And then he goes stomping off, playing up his actually mild reaction to the teasing. When Casey’s rounded the corner to the bedroom hall where the bathroom is, Donnie turns back to look at April.

“He’s so cute,” Donnie says.

“ _So_ cute,” April agrees.

“ _I heard that!”_ calls Casey from the other side of the lair. Donnie and April both crack up.

When they finally calm down enough, Donnie hands off his mug to April and extracts himself from his cocoon. He sets the controls for the fly-cam on top of he beanbag and blanket, stretching languidly and feeling only a little cramped for sleeping where he did.

He maybe stretches a little longer than he needs to, since he feels April’s eyes following his movements and it puts a happy little glow in his chest. Knowing that no matter how many evenings he ends up having a low swing about how he looks, April and Casey still find him appealing partner to have- it makes it a lot easier to not get so down on himself about things he can’t control or change.

And besides, its generally just those nights he has any problem with himself. After all, its not the body that’s important, but the mind that inside it.

Or, well. Maybe the body is a little important. Donnie runs his own appreciative glance over April’s form, taking in the formal dress she’d been wearing earlier and still is now.

“You look beautiful,” Donnie compliments, taking his mug back from her. April flashes him a pleased smile.

“Thanks, it only took like, five different stores to find one that would work,” April huffs. “I mean, honestly. How hard is it to find a dress you can look nice in, but also conceal weaponry underneath and move well enough in, should you have to duel to the death while wearing it?”

Donnie lets out a keenly interested sound at that mental image. Not in the sense that April would be in danger, but in the sense that he’s really come to understand over the years the attraction of a dangerous woman. Casey’s taste is questionable in many things, but not April.

April rolls her eyes at him. “If you believe it or not, Casey made the exact same sound when I said that to him, after I bought the thing.”

“Oh? Well… guess we really agree on how great your choice was,” Donnie says, stepping into his girlfriend’s space. April looks up at him with her gorgeous blue eyes, and Donnie feels his coffee mug leave his hands and float away. There are very few people in the entire world that can get away with separating him from his caffeine, and she is definitely one of them.

He puts his hands on her waist, and the action no longer feels like he’s overstepping an invisible boundary they set years ago. Donnie is comfortable, letting the two of them come together like this and leaning into a kiss with April.

He’s a little hyped on the first rush of caffeine at the moment, and as usual a bit giddy about being with his two favorite people again, _finally,_ and the kiss goes from chaste to somewhat heated in a short period of time. April is thankfully not someone who puts much stock into wearing layers of makeup on her face, and Donnie only tastes the flavor of her tinted lipgloss getting smeared onto his lips. April’s arms come up to wrap around his neck, and what miniscule space was left between them disappears.

Donnie has a shivery sensation building in his plastron as they go on, and he feels April smile into their kiss. “ _There you go again,”_ she says, soft and fond. “That’s so cute. Both of you are ridiculously cute.”

“Not… _everything_ we do… can be cute, April,” Donnie says, unashamed of the warble his purring puts into his voice. The shivery sensation turns into a bubbling sound as April laughs, kissing him on the cheek and chin and nose.

“But it _is,_ goofus,” April says. “And I just love getting to say so, you know? I can say it all the time now and none of you can stop me.”

Donnie can’t handle it anymore, and just buries his face in April’s neck. He is so ridiculously in love with her, he can’t even do anything right now but hold onto her and let a throaty purr shiver through him.

“See? So cute,” April says, running a hand down the back of his skull. Donnie doesn’t answer, too busy being happy from head to toe.

Eventually, April pushes him away so they can look at each other again. Donnie is still purring to himself, but much quieter now that he’s a little more in control of himself. April just gives him a warm look, seeming happy as Donnie is.

“…it’s a little late to ask this, but did you enjoy your night?” Donnie questions, pulling himself back together again. April nods with a smile.

“I technically have a few more weeks of classes, but I am officially a graduate now,” she says proudly. “It was a really great night, honestly, except…” She moves his hands around, putting enough space between them they can move their feet. “I didn’t get to dance, yet.”

Donnie feels a little fuzzy around the edges, suddenly. April is here in a dress she’s going to wear again at her prom in a few days, and she’s dating him, and this is a fantasy Donnie genuinely never thought would come true for him. One of the most vital components to any high school drama movie: the graduation and prom dances.

He has weird fixations regarding the ideal of a normal life, he knows that, but he’s going to let himself have this one, just for tonight. Because this time it’s _real._

“…it would be my honor,” he says with a smile, managing something close to suave, and starts leading April through the steps.

The thing that always made April special- among a million other incredible things about her- is that she could pick up pretty much any skill if she tried. In three years, she mastered nearly every aspect there is to being a ninja, and then perfected her skills within another year. Her grades at school remained above average even with all the interruptions she suffered, and somewhere between that and ninjutsu, she gained full control of her psychic powers.

It took Donnie fifteen years to reach the level April hit within her second year of training. He’s never begrudged her of that, though. It only made him admire her more, and want to work harder to help her keep improving.

Donnie is fairly certain his girlfriend is a genius in her own right, and definitely certain she’s something of a superwoman.

Predictably, it only takes two cycles of their dance for her to pick it up near perfectly, and soon they’re dancing like they’ve choreographed this for months. There’s no music to accompany them, but they still move in time with one another as though there is a steady beat.

Dancing is just another form of martial arts, in Donnie’s opinion, however opposite the two seem on the surface. The musculature of a professional dancer is around the same level, if in different places. And the two require same kind of endurance and grueling training, if you want to make it to the top. Really, it just makes sense that April could pick up this style of dancing with the same ease she did everything else.

She’s effortlessly graceful, flowing over the floor in her high heels like she does over rooftops in special lightweight steel-toed boots- up until they both hit an uneven patch of the stones, and knock each other off rhythm. They sway into one another, laughing and grinning.

“Aw fuck,” Casey says, and Donnie and April glance towards him. He’s coming down the steps from the bedroom hall, dressed in the spare clothes he’s started keeping in Donnie’s room (read as: forgets on the floor, probably on purpose). Casey looks somewhat put out, crossing his arms over his band t-shirt. “I already took off my tux, and you decide _now_ to do the dance party? You didn’t even bother to invite me, either.”

“Your own fault for changing so quick, Jones,” April teases, leaving Donnie’s arms and meeting Casey halfway to tug him down for a quick cheek kiss. “You’re not even wearing a push-up bra or heels, honestly. You’ve got nothing to complain about.”

“I can complain about not seeing said push-up bra,” Casey quips, only to have his ear tweaked for the comment. “ _Ow,_ c’mon, April- it’s not like it’s not something I haven’t seen before.”

April shoots a look at Donnie as she walks away, a sly curl to her lips. “Entertain him while I’m gone, dear. I’m getting out of this outfit before I kill someone. These heels are _murder.”_

“And you make it look so good,” Casey calls after her, earning a (fake) dismissive wave. He looks back towards Donnie, gesturing in a _I’m right, right?_ manner. Donnie nods, because Casey is _absolutely_ right about that.

Donnie finally moves his eyes from April’s retreating form, and goes to find wherever she put his mug. The true source of his life force is on the side of the media pit, still steaming. Donnie picks it up immediately and resumes replenishing himself.

“Murder on heels, it never looked so good,” Casey is muttering as he approaches, right into Donnie’s space and making a grab for his mug. Donnie puts a hand on Casey’s face and pushes him away from the prize, taking a long sip of it while his boyfriend whines.

“I _made_ that for you,” Casey protests.

Donnie puts his shell to him, hoarding his drink. “Mmm, yes you did, very grateful, hands off.”

“Selfish jerk,” Casey says, and proceeds to drape himself over Donnie’s back, his face near the nape of Donnie’s neck. The effect of having someone so close to that point part of himself- where a mostly faded instinct to draw _inwards_ remains at times- is kind of like experiencing an intense tickling itch. His scales are rather delicate there, since they would have been soft enough to let him hide his head in his shell, back when he was a baby.

He can’t physically do that anymore, obviously, but it’s still a bit of a vulnerable feeling area. There are only a handful of people in the world Donnie is comfortable letting near it, and Casey is one of those people. His humanly hot breath on the spot still makes Donnie shiver on the inside, ticklish in an almost bad way, but somehow alright still.

“So… do I get a dance, or what?” Casey asks, tugging on the tails of Donnie mask, which Donnie only remembered to put on because of sheer habit. Same as his belt and wrappings, as always.

Donnie tugs his mask out of Casey’s grip, since it was making his neck crane at a weird angle. “Coffee, Casey. Coffee comes first.”

“But April got a dance.”

“April is special.”

“But I’m not?”

“She distracted me with clever kunoichi tricks.”

“Biased. I could totally do the same. Come on, sweep me off my feet.”

“Coffee first.”

“ _Donnie…”_

Donnie continues to ignore his boyfriend’s pestering, right up to the point Casey’s lips brush the back of his neck and Donnie makes an embarrassing squeak-choke into his coffee mug.

 _“Got a few tricks of my own_ ,” Casey says, mouth right on Donnie’s sensitive scales, and Donnie is a little incoherent with his response, it’s just so _tender_ there, _okay?_

“I- _hate_ both of you- gkk,” Donnie can’t pick between slapping his hands over the back of his neck or shoving Casey away, he still has his _coffee_ to consider- so he’s forced to turn and hold Casey at bay, whilst hunching up his shoulders and making a distressed titter.

Casey is laughing at him, the utter asshole, and Donnie hates him _so much_ for ever figuring out how sensitive that part of him is. Right now, at least.

Other times, however… _hhh._ God yes.

Right now, though, Donnie is grudgingly resigned that he cannot savor the taste of his drink, and will be forced to shotgun the rest of it. Because his boyfriend is terrible, and on this occasion, just as conniving as their girlfriend.

“Fuck you,” Donnie says tersely, and drains the rest of his mug.

“Dinner and dance first,” Casey shoots back, eliciting a groan from Donnie when he’s done gulping slightly too hot liquids.

“You’ve overused that response,” Donnie says, and wipes his mouth of the coffee that nearly dribbled down his chin.

“And _yet,_ you still think it’s funny,” Casey says, sidling up to Donnie again and plucking the empty mug out of his hands.

“I do not,” Donnie replies.

“Oh you so do,” Casey says with a grin, right in Donnie’s face. “You always smile.”

Donnie is indeed smiling, damn Casey and his clumsy charm. They kiss for a moment, Casey probably getting a taste of the beverage Donnie hastily finished, and then break apart.

“Dancing,” Casey demands, quickly going and dropping the mug on the couch without care for its safety. Donnie sighs, put upon and fond.

“Do you even know how to dance?” Donnie asks, taking Casey’s insistent hands as he returns.

“Casey Jones can do anything,” Casey says, giving his signature gap toothed grin of pure confidence. “But like… I didn’t know _you_ guys could dance like that. I thought you were ninjas, not ballerinas.”

“That was ballroom dancing, thank you very much,” Donnie corrects. “I don’t have the right ankle or toe bones to accomplish pointe. Or have shoes big enough anyway.”

“Why d’you know all that stuff anyway?”

“Mikey and Leo had a bizarre dance phase a couple years ago, believe it or not. I think it was partially stress related,” Donnie explains, remembering around the time his brothers had come up with the new hobby, they’d still been in the heart of serious conflict with the Shredder and his crumbling sanity. “But anyway, we kind of all got sucked into it? It wasn’t something we’d tried before, and… it wasn’t like we have much else to do besides kill time most nights. Even back then.”

Focusing on getting a pivot in time with musical tempo had been a lot easier than waiting for the other shoe to drop. The pauses between fights only got more stressful the steeper the losses might be, the next time around. Taking a breather from constant training and vigilance, and doing so in the form of tripping each other up to hastily downloaded soundtracks… it’d been a much needed break for all of them. The sheer ridiculousness probably is what helped best, and the payoff of mastering a style of dance besides _‘whatever goes’_ and _‘bastardize hip-hop’_ was a good one.

“That isn’t the answer I was expecting, but somehow that makes sense,” Casey says with a bemused nod. “But quick question. Exactly how hilarious did Raph look tryin’ to be graceful?”

“Extremely hilarious,” Donnie replies brightly. “I have footage if you ever want to see.”

“ _Hell_ yes. But first,” Casey abruptly plasters himself to Donnie’s chest, and then goes partially limp as he leans his head backwards. “ _Dazzle me,_ Hamato-san.”

“Please, Hamato-san was my father,” Donnie replies gamely, dipping Casey in a way that makes them both stumble a little. “Call me… _Donatello_ -san.”

“That’s just your normal name,” Casey cackles, his footing slipping and almost overbalancing them both. Donnie nearly drops him trying to get them both upright again.

“I know, but you trying to use respectful honorifics will forever be funny. It just sounds so _wrong._ ”

“I can be respectful, you dick.”

“You don’t have a respectful bone in your whole body, Casey Jones, and I can confirm this with eyewitness accounts and security footage.”

“Fuck you,” Casey snaps.

“After dinner and dance,” Donnie quips back.

“ _Ha!_ I knew you thought that was funny. You admit it.”

“Just shut up and move your feet already.”

What follows is really just that. The two of them moving their feet around and not really accomplishing anything resembling actual dancing. Casey Jones might be one of the most competent and effective brawlers in the whole of NYC, but he is not quite cut out for organized dance. Donnie spends half the time fighting Casey silently over who is actually supposed to be _leading_ the dance (he’s not sure Casey even notices what he’s doing), and the other half snorting and laughing at the poorly copied steps Casey is trying. April is a master of mimicry and adaptation. Casey is really just too much _himself_ to try being anything else.

Donnie doesn’t think he’d want Casey to be anyone else, honestly. Even if his boyfriend steps on his toes more than once, twice, thrice…

But it’s a lot of fun, in a way that’s different from the innate flow of his and April’s combined movements, but still something that makes a warm glow appear in Donnie’s chest. Whereas April and he click together in practiced steps, hours spent together in the dojo and learning each other’s movements so well they could fight blindfolded and still know the exact spot the other would set foot next- Donnie and Casey find a matching tempo that’s built from long term exposure and general chaos, the kind that an actual fight is permeated with and the time when Casey thrives best.

Donnie needs to get the two of them to dance together next, just so he can observe what their chemistry reaction will be. The best reactions generally come from combustible components, and his partners are certainly that at times.

April returns around the point Casey is trying to dip _Donnie,_ and the effort is going horrendously. Casey is wiry but fit- but Donnie is dense bone and muscle, and not even Casey Jones can conquer that difference of weight vs strength.

April is grinning in amusement as she approaches, watching Casey haul Donnie back off the ground with a look of warm affection in her eyes. She’s changed out of her yellow dress and ditched the heels; now wearing a comfortable jumpsuit with a t-shirt underneath, hair in a low ponytail. (Also all left on Donnie’s room’s floor, also probably on purpose.)

“Having fun?” April asks, lips quirked upwards.

“Plenty,” Casey replies.

“You didn’t just bang your funny bone, so I think we have differing opinions at the moment,” Donnie says.

“Shut up, big baby. You have elbow pads.”

“I’m delicate.”

“Oh, _please.”_

“Boys,” April interjects, rolling her eyes, “are we going to stand around here all night, or are you going to help me blow off some steam? I’ve used up all my ‘normal person’ points for today and feel like doing something a little more… _physical.”_

Donnie and Casey exchange a look.

They both grin excitedly at the same time.

“What was the score last time?” Casey asks.

“Twelve to me, nine to Donnie, six to you,” April replies.

“Damn, gotta fix that. I think I got a Red Bull somewhere in the van.”

“How did you beat me last time, again?” Donnie asks, tapping his chin. “I even slept a full eight hours that day.”

April smirks. “I have a bit of a natural advantage over you, hon.”

“Ah, right.” April can walk out in the streetlights, an obvious and alluring target. “Don’t think that’ll be enough tonight; Casey gave me coffee and I’m feeling pretty damn lucky.”

“We’ll see about _that.”_

Casey slings an arm around April’s waist, leaning close and asking, “So… where do you think is a good place to start?”

“I’d say start from the bottom, work our way up,” Donnie suggests, following them both as they head towards the dojo.

“A warm up and then the real deal? Sounds dope. I don’t feel like pulling anything anyway. Not that Casey Jones would, of course.”

“Of course,” April says, humoring him. She slides the dojo’s doors open, slipping inside and shooting a sly grin over her shoulder. Definitely expecting them to follow along quickly.

Donnie is a little giddy, since this is fun on his own time, but way better with his two partners. After all, the best things in life come in threes.

April goes to the wall of the dojo, lithe and graceful and practically brimming with promise of what’s to come. She grabs her katana off the wall, and turns with a somewhat bloodthirsty smile.

“How’s about we start at 9th avenue and head west?” April says, violence and inappropriate love for that sort of thing dancing in her eyes. Casey drags his own stashed gear out of the corner of the room, skates swinging in one hand and mask in the other. His confident smirk is no less inappropriate in intent.

Donnie loves them so much, he sometimes can’t quite breathe. Even if they’re both complete psychos who think beating up the street criminals of New York is a good date activity. Or maybe _because_ they’re psychos.

After all, it’s not like Donnie has any leg to stand on here. He and his brothers are just as guilty of finding a good brawl downright refreshing at times. Really, there just isn’t anything quite like a good night out reminding people around here exactly _who_ this territory belongs to.

“I think that sounds like a perfectly reasonable starting point,” Donnie agrees, and goes to swap his around-the-house belt for the actually-contains-a-lot-dangerously-sharp-objects-and-other-assorted-weapons belt. Sliding his bo staff across his shell after that, Donnie turns to give his own toothy grin.

“Shall we?” he asks.

“Oh, _let’s,”_ April says, and holds out an arm for him to take. Together- with Casey hopping on one foot to catch up, trying to get his skates on still- they leave the dojo behind and head out of the lair. Casey catches up before they pass the Party Wagon parked in the tunnels, grabbing his dented can of Red Bull and draining it faster than Donnie did his coffee.

The night air above greets them with an embrace of cool temperature and hum of nighttime activity in the distance. Cars, people- busy lives still in motion, even after the sunset. Donnie breathes in deeply, wide awake and thrumming with energy for multiple reasons.

Donnie then darts across the pavement from the sewer entrance- leaping upwards and grabbing the rung of a fire escape attached to the nearest building. From there he jumps again, soundless as any ninja worth their salt, to a windowsill and then further up. Nearly beside him, and then overtaking him, April makes superhuman jumps with the use of her telekinesis up to the roof. Trailing, but barely so, Casey uses his own style of parkour to keep on their tails and climbs the fire escape at nearly the same pace.

The wind whips across Donnie’s face as he makes it over the rooftop’s edge, snapping his mask tails and whistling past his ear slits. April dances a few steps ahead, light on her feet and shooting Donnie a teasing smile. _Catch me if you can._

Casey goes rushing past, putting his homemade vigilante equipment to good use and covering ground with his skates. His gloved hand brushes just the surface of April’s sleeve, before she’s leaping out of reach and laughing wild and free.

Donnie, not wanting to be left behind or outdone, pours on the speed and races to match their steps- vaulting over the gap between buildings and hitting the ground in time with Casey, both of them still barely behind April’s dash over the second rooftop.

Later, they’ll probably curl up in Donnie’s bedroom, or maybe April’s if they’re nearer to her home than his- exhausted and happily so, likely teasing whoever has the lowest headcount and giving them the consolation prize of extra kisses. Limbs flopped over one another’s, pushing into each other’s space with a kind of casualness that they’ve had for years, but now without inhibitions; maybe a bicker fight over takeout to order, maybe no words at all and fingers wound into hair or shirts or clutched to the shallow ridges of a shell. Or maybe they’ll just watch Netflix and fall asleep on top of each other right away.

It doesn’t particularly matter to Donnie, like it doesn’t particularly matter to him where they start their impromptu stress relief patrol. So long as he gets to be at the sides of these two wildly grinning people, who accept his own wild grin and everything that comes with it as something wonderful and worth loving.

Donnie’s feet hit the next rooftop with a soundless landing, finally caught up with April’s own- Casey’s shoulder knocks into his at the last second, catching them both at the same time- stubbornness to win and glee in doing so driving all of their rapid paces- and Donnie laughs with them both as they race the night wind over the streets of New York, hidden by the dark of the sky and seen perfectly fine by the people that truly matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos to my commissioner and now friend semianonymity for making this all happen, bless ya semi. i'm so glad to have a friend who loves these three as much as i do.
> 
> thanks to everyone who read this, i was happy to share this lovely and ridiculous romance with you. capritello deserved better from 2012, since in my eyes it had real implications.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me all your thoughts and desires in the comments below. <3


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